Fire Emblem: Awakening - Again Again
by Veymorak
Summary: Chrom died. Like, hard. Lucina takes the most logical course of action and travels back in time to save the world. Again. However, when she doesn't arrive alone, things go wrong. ... Again.
1. Chapter 1

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter I**

 **Prologue**

 _ **The day the planet exploded**_

" _Chrom!" Robin shouted as he shook the man in a futile attempt to resuscitate him. As much as he wanted, he couldn't take back what he had just done. The blood he had spilled was the world's last hope, and now it was soaking into the brickwork. "Wake up damn it!"_

" _Father!" Robin looked over his shoulder in the direction of the two voices, and immediately spotted two young women making their way towards him. The shorter one, a blue-haired girl with a huge grin on her face, dashed towards him with a wide smile. "You're alright!"_

" _Morgan…" Robin whispered as he scrambled backwards, only to trip over Chrom. "S-stay back!"_

 _The other woman, who he recognized to be none other than the time-travelling daughter of Chrom, stopped moving entirely. She seemed to freeze in place, her eyes wide in horror as she stared at her father and the bolt of lightning in his chest. Morgan stopped as well, directly next to the pile of ash that once was Validar._

 _Gingerly, the princess kneeled down next to the fallen Lord, and the entire temple went silent as a single tear ran down her face. The atmosphere was solemn._

 _And then she drew her sword._

" _She's pissed." Morgan squeaked._

 **O**

"Lissa!" Chrom shouted, pushing himself to run even faster as the princess trembled. She was almost curled up, her healing staff held out as if to ward away the undead warrior that towered over her, keeping her backed up against the tree. She looked scared, and Chrom's heart skipped a beat as the monster raised its war axe... and the prince knew that there was no way for him to reach her in time.

" _No!_ "

 _I blame myself._ He thought as he leapt over a rock. _If I hadn't let her come with me to check out this damned place..._

Time seemed to slow as movement caught his eye, and for a moment he wondered if more of the creatures were crossing through the eye-like portal that blocked out the moon. He had almost died to the first one he met prior, and the thought of even more worried him, if only slightly.

 _There…_

Dropping from the sky itself, a figure landed gracefully on their feet before taking off towards his sister at an even _faster_ pace than he himself could manage. Their tattered cape trailed behind them like a ribbon as they closed the distance, weapon raised in a fashion that made him wonder if they were friend or foe.

 _Who…?_ Chrom slid to a stop as they bolted past him, sliding to a stop just as the axe began to drop, and knocked the weapon aside with their own. Before the monster could regain it's balance, the mysterious swordsman slashed viciously at it's neck, separating the head from the body in one smooth movement.

The masked man hesitated, his worn blue-garb flapping in the wind as several more zombie-warriors began to claw their way out of the ground around the princess and her saviour.

" _Help_!" He ordered, grimacing as the beasts began to close in. Chrom could see his mouth move as he mumbled something to himself, before taking up an oddly familiar stance.

"Right." Chrom nodded, sprinting forwards to provide support. Leaping up into the air, he drove his sword downwards and sliced through his target, creating a path through the ring of undead. With a battle cry, he spun and drove his Falchion down into his fallen opponent with a sickening thud. Leaping backwards, he swung a few more times, forcing the remaining enemies to keep their distance. "Come on!"

The swordsman nodded in appreciation, grabbing Lissa by the arm and darting through the opening that had been made for him.

"Chrom!" A voice called from the forest.

Chrom waved for his allies to follow, before breaking into a sprint towards the sound of cursing and snapping twigs. His group arrived at the edge of the trees as Robin and Frederick burst out of the thorny bushes at the base. Frederick looked no worse for wear, leaping majestically over the bush on his horse and painting the picture of a true knight, whilst Robin was forced to take the less fortunate path _through_ the thistles, her coat covered in leaves and twigs in her hair. The mysterious blue-haired swordswoman flinched at the new arrivals, a confused frown on his face though he said nothing.

"M'lord," Frederick said, drawing his lance. "We apologize for our tardiness. We came as soon as you set the forest on fire."

"I swear I didn't do it!" Chrom protested, spinning back to face the threat as the five edged away from the flaming ruins of the wood.

"What is going on?" Robin demanded, her eyes narrowed as she drew her thunder tome. "And what are _those?_ I would hope this is not common fare in Ylisse."

"They aren't." Chrom reassured her.

"They are known as the Risen," The swordsman spoke for the second time, his bloodstained and cracked mask hiding the fire in his eyes. "soldiers brought back from the dead to lay waste to this land."

Chrom seemed to remember that the man existed for the first time, and turned to look at him. "That sounds unpleasant indeed. I am Chrom, the one on the horse is Frederick, that's Lissa, and this is Robin. Care to tell us your name?"

"Only if your mysterious warrior cliche allows it." Robin chimed in, her finger raised.

"You may call me…" He hesitated, glancing from Chrom to Robin. The corners of his mouth were twitching, and behind his mask his eyebrows were furrowed. "Marth."

Suddenly, a fiery explosion detonated itself off to the east of the group, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. Lissa let out a squeak as the ground shook, causing one of the trees from the forest to finally give in to gravity as it fell, crashing to the ground mere feet away from her.

"Do I _have_ to travel at the back?" She complained, though was ignored as the ground trembled once more.

"What is that?" Frederick demanded as his horse neighed. "This area is not safe as it is. Perhaps the ground is splitting again?"

"Frederick, take point!" Robin ordered, cracking open her tome as she warily eyed the approaching monsters. "Marth and Chrom, watch our east and west sides. We need to get to one of those fortresses. Their foundation is less likely to split open and swallow us whole, and we can defend better from th-" She was cut off as the earth rocked again, and for a moment she wondered if the fort she had been pointing to on the other side of the Risen was going to explode just to spite her. "Gods damn it all! What is causing the-"

And then the world exploded.

 **O**

Okay, the world didn't _actually_ explode. Though from Marth's position, it totally seemed like it. Despite this, the totally-not-future-princess kept her- _HIS_ cool, even as a huge rift tore across the ground, swallowing the Risen that had been advancing on the five in an instant.

Alright. Marth wasn't _really_ Marth. Obviously.

It was kind of funny, really. Back with the Shepherds, after revealing her identity and mission, people were always confused as to why she didn't simply reveal who she was and protect Chrom from beside him. She had carefully explained that she was trying not to alter the timeline too drastically, though looking back on it it was a laughable excuse. She was trying to prevent the world's destruction. Not making any drastic alterations seemed a tad counterintuitive. To this day, incidentally two years before the question will be asked, she still has no idea why she did it. But when asked by Robin what she would do if she could try it all over again, she had said that she would stay by her father's side, not as Marth but as Lucina.

Unfortunately, upon seeing her father alive _again again_ , in the flesh and blood, she kind of… panicked.

Panicked and introduced herself as Marth. Again again.

 _Stupid, stupid, STUPID!_

"Alright, I think I figured it out!" Robin hurriedly corrected herself, backing away as another, thinner crack zig-zagged between her legs. "Yup. The planet is exploding!"

"Naga above." Chrom cursed, shoving Lissa towards Frederick. "Frederick! Take Lissa, and get her to safety. If you can, come back for us!"

"What?!" Lissa looked shocked, and struggled to get away from the knight much like a child to avoid bathing. "No! I can help!"

"M'lord!" Frederick shook his head. "I cannot leave you here."

"There's only room for two on your horse, and I'm not leaving anyone behind." Chrom argued, shoving Lissa back up as the princess became the unfortunate rope in the reverse-tug-of-war. "If you stay here, we all die, and I'm not leaving Lissa!"

Frederick hesitated, looking from Lissa to Chrom, and Lucina knew that the poor man was being torn apart. Her earliest memories included her father's brave guardian, and she hadn't ever seen him leave his side to go to the _outhouse,_ let alone in the midst of danger.

"Take care, m'lord." Frederick practically moaned as he slung Lissa over the back. Lucina knew that this had to be _killing_ him, but at the very least the princess would be safe. "I will return for you as soon as possible."

With a shout, Lucina watched as he took off faster than she had ever seen him ride, and she knew that her father had been in good hands.

 _Didn't save him._ She lamented, before shaking the thought away.

Suddenly, the crack at Robin's feet began widening, and the tactician-to-be leapt across to stand beside the future-princess and her father with a huff. "We need to get to that fort!"

"Would it not be wiser to leave this place?" Lucina demanded, speaking in her 'Marth' voice as she looked to the burning forest.

"Nope." Robin shook her head as more cracks began to spread. "Run!"

The three took off in a dramatic sprint across the cracking ground, and Lucina idly noted that this had never happened in the previous timeline. Only idly, though, as soon a jet of lava almost seared her eyebrows off. Luckily, Gerome's mask protected her.

Gerome's mask. Not a copy. The dying man had given it to her before he breathed his last breath, and it still haunted her.

Shaking out of her daze, Lucina could hear shouting on the other side as the ground around her split apart, causing her to take a step backwards.

Right off the cliff.

Her heart was in her throat as she grasped for something to steady herself, finding nothing but the ashy branch of a bush that disintegrated at her touch.

" _Marth_!"

Tipping backwards, her world flipped upside down as she did a full vertical three-sixty, her hands finding purchase in one of the hand-hold like gaps of the seam's walls. The swordswoman felt the searing heat of the magma below, and several thoughts flashed through her mind.

 _Is this how it ends?_

 _Father… forgive me…_

" _Curse you, Robin!"_

A rock bounced off of her head.

Looking up, a pale hand was dangling just above her, the grime and ash that was smudged across it glistened with sweat. She supposed it _wasn't_ just her.

 _Hey! I made a joke!_

"Take my hand!"

Ignoring her inner ramblings, she reached up and grabbed the hand, quickly scrambling up the hot rocky surface and ignoring the burning in her hands as she was hoisted up and over the edge.

Climbing to her feet as quickly as she dared, Lucina cleared her throat and looked up at her saviour. The hand had been masculine, so unless Frederick had _already_ returned, then-

"Thank you, Chrom…"

There was an awkward silence as even the cracking of the earth stopped. She was frozen mid-rise, staring up at the familiar Plegian robes. They were far too tattered to be those of the Robin she had seen earlier, stained with blood and run ragged at the edges. Further up, under the hood, a pair of umber eyes stared down at her in concern.

A range of emotions flashed through her. Relief, happiness… Boiling uncontrollable rage as hot as the sun…

Mostly rage.

"Hey!" Lucina tore her gaze from the ghost to look in the direction of the voice. Chrom was waving wildly as the world started again, cracks beginning to spider-web across the surface and magma erupting. Meanwhile, just behind the lord-to-be the fortress sat sturdily, it's foundation remaining stable amongst the shifting plates of earth. "You two! Get over here!"

Scrambling to her feet, Lucina broke into a run, dodging away from a pillar of fire as she, Chrom, and the Plegian robed man that no one would ever recognize darted through the open gates of the fort.

"Help me close them!" Robin ordered, wiping sweat off of her forehead. "Also, your cape is on fire."

Cursing, Lucina patted out her cloak before assisting in shutting the doors.

 **O**

 **I loved the idea, but the execution was… poor, to say the least. Ah well. I'm sure it'll turn out somewhat alright.**

 **On that note, I'd like to mention the story's nature. This isn't going to be a hardcore drama. I thought about it; I really did. But then I remembered I'm an asshole that can barely pin down emotions. So this will be part humor, part drama. I apologize if any of the characters seem out of, well, character.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter II**

 **Etzel**

 _ **The Butterfly Effect**_

" _How did you think this was going to end?"_

 _The tactician's head snapped towards the voice, and Lucina paused as well. Standing a ways away from the three, a man with hair as white as Robin's own and Plegian robes cleaner than any he had seen before was chuckling as he watched the ordeal. Strolling forwards, despite Lucina's menacing look, the man that had also introduced himself as 'Robin' kicked lazily at Validar's remains while Morgan scurried away._

" _Did you think I could really be stopped? That I could actually be killed?"_

" _Grima you bastard…" Lucina muttered, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her Falchion. "I will be the one to end you! I will succeed where my father did not! Prepare yourself!"_

 _Before she could move, the Robin-lookalike's hands began to pulse with dark energies, and he laughed. "You're far too late. It's true; in this form, I'm as weak as any mortal man. However, this form will not be the one to cause the world's downfall."_

" _What?" Robin demanded, trying to rise but failing due to the numerous injuries given to him by both Validar and Lucina. "Without the Fire Emblem, you-"_

" _-I have no need of it anymore!" He was cut off as the temperature of the room seemed to drop. "Over the years, I have gathered enough energy to be reborn in my TRUE form! My power will be absolute, and etern-"_

 _A blindingly bright beam of energy tore past Robin, carving a hole in the now-not-so-lookalike Robin's chest._

 _The entire temple went silent as the man stumbled forwards, the energy he had been storing escaping through his mouth as well as the gaping and charred wound of his chest in streams of purple._

" _I…" He coughed, before collapsing. "... Wasn't ready…"_

" _Father!" Morgan cheered from behind Lucina, holding up a Thoron tome. "I have mastered the art of striking first!"_

" _Morgan…" Lucina murmured, stepping to the side to protect the girl. "Get back."_

" _It's a little late for that, now isn't it?" The real Robin growled, holding his leg as he got to his feet. "What part of 'Keep my daughter away from here' did you not understand?!"_

" _I don't take orders from you anymore." Lucina replied, leveling her blade with his chest. "You promised to protect my father."_

 _The tactician's hard eyes softened as he glanced at Chrom._

" _I-" He stuttered, feeling his chest tighten. "I… I couldn't-"_

 _There was a sharp crack, causing the two to step away from each other quickly as the entire structure rocked._

" _What is this?" She demanded, trying to steady her sword even as cliche evil laughter began to come from all directions. "What have you done...?"_

 **O**

"I wish I knew what in the seven hells was going on here…" Chrom growled, clenching his teeth as he allowed Robin to apply the last bit of his vulnerary to his scorched forearm. She was doing an admirable job, considering the poor lighting. At that moment, he really did wish that he had brought a healing staff. "I've never seen creatures like this before, let alone fiery earthquakes that split the earth itself."

The four had managed to shut the large gates to the fortress, though not without much effort. Chrom lamented that it was heavier than the one time he had tried to wear Frederick's armor, though even that may have been an overstatement. It was like the man weighed it with lead…

Ultimately, the inside of the fortress was as underwhelming as the outside, for a lack of better words. The few pieces of wooden furniture scattered throughout the main area were mostly rotted away, save for a few chairs and a table. In the far corner, a door leading to the cramped barracks the soldiers would have shared when under siege was long since rusted shut. The hatch that lead to the top of the fortress was in no better condition, and even if it were the destroyed ladder rendered it useless anyways. All in all, Chrom had to keep telling himself it was better than the outside…

Even if it _did_ smell like Miriel's workshop. Musty and moldy; an unpleasant combination.

"So, Robin." Chrom continued at the woman's silence, though a bit more quietly as to not be heard by the room's other occupants. "What do you make of those two?"

"I'm not sure why you bother asking." She replied, digging in the prince's satchel for more herbs. "I haven't known you for very long, but anyone can see that you have a ton of faith in Marth."

He looked at the masked swordsman, who was simply glaring at the new arrival that sat in one of the rickety wooden chairs propped up against one of the four ruined pillars of the room a distance away from him, occasionally mumbling something. He nodded. "I can't explain it, but you're right. But I more so meant the other one. The man in the robes."

Robin hesitated, looking from the man back to Chrom. "I'm… not really sure. Something feels off about him. It's weird just looking at him."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Pretty mysterious."

"I'm not joking, Chrom. Don't you feel it?"

He shook his head. "I don't. But if you do… then perhaps he is someone from your past?"

"I wish I remembered." She groaned, finishing wrapping the prince's arm in bandages. "So far, besides you guys being so nice, most of my memories are kind of crappy."

"Thanks. We'll get you to Ylisstol eventually." He reassured her as he got out of his chair. "It might be a bit less… deadly there."

Leaving his satchel where it was, he allowed her to take his seat as he crossed the room to stand within earshot of the other two. The crunch of chipped stone underfoot went unnoticed by the two as he drew near.

"...- _Make a move, and I will-..."_ Marth trailed off, releasing the death-grip he held his sword in and looking up at Chrom.

Chrom looked back down.

"... I can explain." The masked warrior said, unconvincingly.

"So you're Chrom?" The prince in question looked over his shoulder to see the hooded man having risen from his seat, holding out a hand. "I must have forgotten my manners. My name is Etzel."

"I am." Chrom took it, noting the scars that covered it. This man had seen combat, for better or for worse. The prince's eyebrows furrowed, and he could feel Marth's glare grazing his cheek. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Forgive me if I appear suspicious. It... has been a long night."

"And hiding my face likely doesn't exactly garner your trust either, I would suppose." Etzel spoke Chrom's own thoughts, reading him with seeming ease. "I apologize, but the precautions I take are not for your harm."

"What were you doing out here, anyways?" Robin wondered, appearing at his side. The young woman stroked her chin thoughtfully, and Chrom was almost convinced that there was no ulterior motive behind the question. Almost. His ability to detect one's cunning had been greatly developed over the years; Lissa made sure to keep him on his toes, after all.

The hooded man took a step backwards, the visible lower half of his face transforming into a curious frown as though unsure of what to make of the mage's appearance. It would seem that the uneasy feeling between them was a two-way street.

"I am unfamiliar to this continent." Etzel replied, shrugging. "I was wandering around in an attempt to find the capital, when instead I found a nearby village in shambles. Everyone seemed alright, and gave me directions. I just happened to be passing through when someone set the forest on fire."

"Damnit!" Chrom cursed. "It wasn't me!"

"It would seem that you ended up following in our wake by coincidence." Robin said, smiling apologetically. "In the end, it was for the best. Had you not been here, we would have blood on our hands."

"When will we be able to set off?" Marth cut in, his voice stiff as he watched the three. "It is not safe here."

"Well, since we're all here, I might as well address it." Robin said, leaning against the pillar as Etzel offered his chair to Chrom. "In short, we will hopefully be able to leave come dawn. However, it would be unwise to think we are safe in here because there are walls. One of us shall keep watch throughout the night, and make sure no Risen breach the fort."

Chrom turned pale. It would be best not to mention this little sleepover to Frederick, should he ever see him again. The Wary Knight might have a heart attack.

"What have you based this assumption off of, Robin?" Marth said, frowning at the word _hopefully._ "I would rather we didn't spend the rest of our lives trapped in this fortress."

"It's simple, _really_." Etzel spoke before Robin could explain herself, a small smile on his face. "Robin seems rather intelligent. She likely realizes that this disaster is of magical origin."

Chrom could _feel_ Marth's eyebrow raise beneath the mask as he looked to Etzel. " _Oh?_ "

"Indeed." Etzel concurred, fiddling with what seemed to be a golden ring on a chain around his neck. "It must have a source, and a spell of this magnitude cannot last forever. Eventually, the plates will slam back together."

"Exactly." Robin nodded, pointing a finger at Etzel. "It would seem you know a bit about magic. A mage, I would presume?"

"Something like that."

"I would assume none of us have any qualms about sleeping on the floor, should we be unable to get the barracks open?" Chrom clapped his hands together, ending the nerdy conversation.

"" _I've gotten used to it.""_ Both Robin and Etzel spoke in an extremely disturbing display of synchronization, causing Marth to facepalm.

 **O**

Etzel stared up at the roof from under his hood, his arms folded behind his head like a pillow. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but feel that the second he fell asleep, 'Marth' was going to slit his throat.

Alright. Etzel wasn't _really_ Etzel. Obviously. But in his defense, 'Marth' wasn't _really_ 'Marth'. Also obviously. It was nostalgic, really. Him, Chrom, _Lucina (_ Not Marth) all camping out, surrounded by constant danger. They always had each other and the other Shepherds to watch one another's back. They could _count_ on each other.

The only thing unusual about the situation visually was the young woman that was dozing on the other side of the room, hair snow white just like his own. But Robin — The _real_ Robin, as far as he was concerned — would cross that bridge when he got to it. At the moment, all he could do was think. Think about his friends, his old life. He wasn't usually the party-pooper, and while some may disagree with that statement, there was no denying that he was a realistic thinker. There was blood on his hands, and demons in his head.

The ex-tactician paused.

 _Damn._ He blinked. _That was a good line._

"The others are asleep." Lucina said after a moment, not pausing the sharpening of her blade as she looked over her shoulder. Her voice was low, and her glare searing. "Now you owe me an explanation, _Robin._ "

Robin let out a sigh as he looked up at her, having to adjust his hood to see her properly and even then she was upside-down to him. He was fully aware that showing her his face probably made her want to kill him even more, and he didn't blame her.

"You don't look surprised to see me." He mused, not making any move to roll so that she would appear right-side up.

"I was in for quite the shock when you pulled me out of that rift in the ground." She admitted, looking across the room at not-Robin and the man that was sleeping sitting up-right a few feet away from the barracks door. The entire scene was softly illuminated by the candles that the group had managed to salvage from one of the supply crates that were piled up in one of the darker corners, and it almost felt homely. Almost. "But it does not matter anymore. You will answer my questions, and from there I will decide your fate."

Robin bit his lip. Those terms didn't sound like they were in his favor, but he supposed he could humor her.

"What do you want to know?" The ex-tactician sighed, his voice just as low as to not be heard by anyone that might actually still be awake.

"Why are you here?" She demanded, her voice raising slightly as the sound of stone on steel seemed to amplify itself with her pent up anger. "What more do you wish to take from the world?"

"I don't want to take anything else." He admitted, yawning. This conversation was pointless, as the outcome was predictable. "I'm going to right my wrongs."

Lucina snorted. Not a polite, goodhearted snort. No, it was more or a scoff. "I'm having second thoughts about not slaying you where you stand. Even now, you put up a façade."

Robin sighed. It had been worth a shot, but sometimes, people just couldn't see good his good intentions. Though once again; he didn't really blame her.

"Believe what you wish. Anything else?"

"I have many more questions. I really wish to know why in this world, you are... well, less than masculine. However, what I need to know most... how?" She turned in her seat until she was looking over the back of the chair to face him, and he could see that the slits of her mask were cracked around the edges. The tactician hadn't witnessed Gerome's death in person, for it had happened whilst Chrom and him fought Validar, but the Wyvern rider had apparently brought down many with him. What a badass. All the same, it made Robin's chest ache a bit with the knowledge that it had all been for naught.

"How what?"

"Don't play games, Robin." Lucina grunted, clearly agitated by the ex-tactician's dodging of the question, and likely his general presence. "How did you follow me?"

"I don't know what you two are whispering about over there," Fake-Robin called out from the other side of the room, drawing her hood up as if to block out the voices. "But I'm trying to sleep!"

 _Shhhh! She'll kill you!_ Robin tried to project his thoughts in the direction of the tactician-to-be, before smiling apologetically at Lucina. "Looks like that's all the time we have for tonight. Perhaps I'll be able to talk more later?"

"So long as you keep your distance from Chrom, you might last that long."

Robin frowned.

She wasn't going to be easily convinced, though he had anticipated that.

Rolling over onto his side, he watched the dancing shadows the candlelight cast on the wall for a moment, before finally drifting off.

 **O**

Lucina stared out over the grassy field curiously as her eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun at their own pace. The autumn-red blades of grass were now green again under the morning light, and honestly reminded her of the well-kept grass of the castle courtyard.

Where there was grass left, of course.

"What could cause such destruction?" Chrom spoke to himself from beside her, his words numb as he stepped forwards like he could shatter the illusion with his touch.

The once beautiful field had been reduced to nothing but ash and dry dirt that crunched underfoot, and even Lucina had to admit that the damage was excessive. In the distance and scattered across the field, burned out trees were as far as the eye could see. It looked similar to her original timeline minus the sunlight — not a pleasant thought. The only solstice was that the magma-filled cracks in the earth had mended themselves, just as the, er, _Robins_ had predicted.

"I could make a tactician joke here about scorched earth…" Future-Robin muttered from her other side, his eyes narrowed beneath the hood. "But I'm really thinking that I… well, shouldn't."

"A wise decision." She muttered back.

"It looks like we fared better than our surroundings." The other Robin agreed, her eyebrows knitted as she swiped a bit of soot off of the fortress wall with her finger. With her foot, she kicked at the scorched bones of what Lucina hoped was a Risen. "Reduced to ash and dust…"

"Milord!"

Everyone turned to find Frederick the Wary riding full speed across the ravaged terrain, a relieved-yet-still-worried expression on his face as his horse kicked up clouds of ash behind him. To the knight's right rode another woman, her hair a pinkish red and a grimace on her face.

 _Sully._ Lucina let out a sharp breath in her mind. The last she had seen of the woman… well. She hadn't been in the best of shape. Disappeared into the ravaged remnants of Ylisse, and gone without a trace; never to be seen again for the last years she had spent in her most recent timeline.

"Frederick!" Chrom greeted, waving his arms as though there was something that might obstruct him from Frederick's view. Unless he was Kellam, it wasn't happening.

 _Another joke? I'm getting good at this!_ Lucina bit back a smile. It would seem that the familiar faces were improving her mood. _But now's not quite the time._

"Lissa has been safely delivered to Ylisstol. Are you unharmed, milord?" The man inquired, leaping off of his horse as Sully slid to a stop next to him. After ensuring that his majesty had not been seriously wounded (Though he did eye the burn on his arm guilty), he turned to observe the prince's companions. "And who is this man…? Do you pick up everyone you find and ask them to follow you around?"

"Hardly." Chrom snorted, causing Lucina to actually crack a smile. The smile, however, might have grown into something beautiful had she not cut it down in it's youth. She had to keep up appearances, of course. "If that were the case, the Shepherds would have little problem recruiting members."

"Or maybe Frederick here just scares the crap out of them?" Sully offered from atop her horse.

" _Or maybe that damned horse."_ Future-Robin breathed from beside her, likely staring at the mount. Lucina wasn't quite sure what issues Robin had with Sully's horse, but it was best left in the past. Or perhaps the future? Lucina was beginning to hate time-travel.

"Either way, Etzel provided assistance." Lucina's father chuckled as Future-Robin gave a wave. "And I couldn't simply leave him to die." Turning to the group, Chrom made a grand gesture towards the familiar faces. "This is Frederick the Wary. Don't mistake his grumpy face for an act — he's really grumpy."

The knight's grumpy face turned, well, grumpier. Perhaps the grumpiest face anyone of this world had ever seen, had Lucina not known the man for most of her life.

"And this is Sully." The prince continued for the benefit of everyone. "She's the toughest person you'll ever meet. And before that, she was the toughest person you'd never met."

"Damn straight!" The woman concurred, hoisting her lance proudly, before pausing and looking around. "...What the hell happened out here anyways? It looks like a rash on a nobleman's as-"

"With introductions out of the way," Chrom cleared his throat and continued before the woman could say more. "We must set off for Ylisstol. If we make haste, we can be there before dusk. We will be able to talk more there."

"I will not be joining you." Lucina spoke as 'Marth', mentally slapping herself as the scripted words poured out of her mouth. "I have come to these lands on a mission, and I can only accomplish it alone."

Chrom did a doubletake, his eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he stared at his future-daughter.

"...What?"

"This is only the beginning." The princess's jaw snapped shut as Future-Robin stepped past her, his arms dangling by his sides. "What you had witnessed last night was but a prelude."

"B-but-" Lucina stuttered, thrown off balance as her mysterious warrior from the future cliche was stolen by the ex-tactician. "you have been warned!"

"By me." He added.

 _Who does he think he is? This is my father, I get to warn him! Not some- some low-life murderer!_ Lucina cleared her throat. "Take care, sir. I hope I see you again."

Chrom sighed. "And I would assume Etzel will not be coming with us either?"

"I will not." Future-Robin confirmed, turning and beginning to trek away much like Lucina had done in past Chrom's first meeting with her. "I wish you the best of luck, and may Naga guide you."

And then he was gone. Lucina suddenly felt as though she had been robbed of her 'thunder', so to speak. Already, the man was making her task more difficult by stealing her lines. She dreaded to imagine what other problems would arise due to his presence.

"As I suspected." The prince admitted, sparing the departing mage a glance as he disappeared into the ashen wastes that used to be a field. "Take care of yourself, Marth."

"Farewell, Prince Chrom." She replied, turning and trudging off in a different direction to the ex-tactician.

"We are simply going to let them go?!"

"' _Prince_ ' Chrom?" She heard other-Robin speak from behind her, her voice an octave higher as though something was just dawning on her. "You're… you're a… and Lissa is… forgive me, _sire!"_

Despite the speaker, a smile tugged at her lips. Despite not even having been around the first time it had happened, it struck a nostalgic chord in her chest. Likely because the antics of the familiar people that surrounded her reminded her of the place she had learned to call home.

Despite the simply _confusing_ tenses and usually horrible butterfly effects, she supposed time-travel wasn't quite so bad.

 **O**

 **A tad more comedic than the other chapter. Like, much more.**

 **Huh… Lucina sure is pissed that Robin killed Chrom.**

 **On that note, I'm proud of what I did with Robin's name. Also, I'm sure half of the people reading this have figured out what happened to lead up to these moments based on the clues left for you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fire Emblem: Awakening - _Again Again_**

 **Chapter III**

 **The Shepherds**

 _ **A Brief Plegian History! Wait, we aren't doing that?**_

 _The hooded figure was knelt down at the top of the stairs, his coat flapping in the frigid breeze that washed over the shrine. His head was bowed, causing his hood to hide his face as he waited for the other person to speak._

 _Meanwhile, a short distance in front of him stood a woman with a calm expression, seemingly unfazed by the temperature despite being clad in only a silky dress that one would swear to glow faintly in the dim light that seeped through the dark clouds._

" _You came far to see me." Tiki spoke, her hair blowing wispily in the wind. "It has been a long time, tactician."_

" _Indeed." The man responded, drawing back his cowl to reveal hair as white as snow and dark eyes. "And yet you don't look like you've aged a day. Tell me; what is your secret?"_

" _You didn't come here to jest about old times, Robin." Tiki replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "So what is it that you seek from this place?"_

" _What else is there to seek from this shrine?" He wondered, glancing up at the dark sky. "The days of those that come here praying wealth and power are long gone. Now, there is only one thing I want, and I will change my fate to achieve it if I must."_

" _Then we have no time to talk." She replied, shaking her head sadly._

" _Should I succeed, we will be able to talk later." He reassured her, looking back up into the clouds._

" _Under less daunting circumstances."_

 **O**

"So this is Ylisstol?" Robin mused as the four gently pushed through the crowds of people that swarmed the streets. "I've never seen so many people in one place before! As far as I can remember, at any rate."

"It is a beacon of hope in this time of war." Frederick said from his mount at the back, where he glared at any one that got too close to the group — accidental or otherwise. "Ylisstol and it's Exalt are symbols of peace."

"Ylisse is at war?"

"Not yet." Chrom shook his head as he lead the group with the magician at his side. "It's pessimistic thinking alright, but there's no doubt that this world hangs in a delicate balance as of late. We lay on the brink of conflict."

"I say just try us." Sully growled. "We can take 'em."

"That is where I agree." Chrom nodded. "Our neighboring continent, Plegia, are… less than peaceful peoples."

"So what's stopping you?"

Suddenly, a loud wave of cheering erupted from the flocks of people ahead, and even Frederick had troubles keeping up with who to glare at as the entire crowd began to shift and jostle. Robin's eyebrows knitted together at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, and looked to the prince for explanation. However, he only gave a fond smile.

" _Her."_

Standing on her tippy toes, Robin could just make out a head of light brown hair making it's way towards the group. After a moment, the crowd parted to reveal a pale woman with a soft smile standing in the center of the path, flanked on either side by guards in polished armor.

"I would assume that that is the exalt you speak of?" Robin guessed as she watched the woman pick her way down the road towards them.

"Yes. Lady Emmeryn." The prince confirmed, grinning. "She's my sister. It's her that keeps Ylisse from warring with those cultists."

The moment dragged on, and Chrom's smile began to waver as Emmeryn's did not. Seconds ticked by as the exalt stopped every few seconds to wave, or smile, or spare a few coins for a beggar.

"She sure is taking a long time to get here." The mage finally noted, stroking her chin. "Is it even safe for someone as important as her to be walking the streets like this?"

"As Chrom said," Frederick cut in, his tone bored as they watched the painfully slow progress of the lady. "lady Emmeryn is a symbol of peace—Ylisse's most prized quality. Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the fell dragon tried to destroy the world. But the first exalt joined forces with the divine dragon and laid the beast low. Exalt Emmeryn reminds us all of the peace we fought for then. But more than that, she reminds us of the peace we fight for now."

Robin tilted her head, her eyes shining as she absorbed the knowledge like a sponge. "Is there a difference?"

"There is." He affirmed with a single nod. "Remembering what we _fought_ for is rarely as inspiring as remembering what we _fight_ for. We don't fight for the past, or for revenge against Plegia. Instead, Ylisse fights for the future, and to ensure that we never repeat the mistakes we've made. Lady Emmeryn believes warring with Plegia is not the path to that future, and so our loyalty lies with her and her family."

"The Shepherds are her army." Chrom nodded.

"... An army of… peace?" Robin wondered skeptically.

"Exactly. Though… not exactly her official army of peace. More like a taskforce of peace. Or a militia of peace."

Robin wasn't quite sure that was how peace worked.

"At any rate, that was a pretty inspiring speech." She continued, waving a hand at Frederick. "I would assume Frederick here is in charge of those sorts of things?"

"Like hell." Sully snorted, causing Frederick to twitch. "Frederick's 'bout as charismatic as that idiot with the bow."

"Who?" Robin asked, confused.

"Virion." Chrom said, as though that explained everything. It should have, but it didn't.

"That doesn't-" She began, before being interrupted by Fredick.

"It would seem that Lady Emmeryn has finally arrived." The Wary Knight noted, watching as she and her troupe approached. "I pray my speech did not fall on deaf ears, Robin."

"I won't do anything." She replied indignantly. "Chrom's the one that lit the forest on fire."

"Emm!" Chrom greeted, his grin back in full effect as she stopped in front of the group and ignored the jibe. "Sorry I'm late."

"I would hope so." The woman said, her own smile laced with concern as she examined the prince. "When Frederick and Lissa arrived alone last night, I feared the worst. It is good to see that you have returned safely, however."

"I ran into some issues, though I have no doubt you have already been made aware of that." The swordsman said, earning a nod from his sister. "However, the good news is that those bandits won't be bothering anyone anymore."

"There's more to the events of last night than you realize." She replied ominously. "Though it would seem that even those monsters held no torch to your own skills."

"You needn't worry about me." Chrom chuckled, waving away her concerns. "And I had plenty of help."

"Ah," Emmeryn nodded, as though her brother asking random people to tag along with him and help save villages and/or the world was one of his hobbies. "you speak of your new companion here?"

"I do, among others. This is Robin, and she fought bravely against the brigands that had been terrorizing the village's inhabitants." He explained, gesturing to the magician that stood beside him. "I have decided to make her the tactician of the Shepherds, due to her extensive knowledge of battlefield strategy."

The newly-appointed tactician did a double take as Emmeryn tilted her head. "W-what?!"

"I see." The exalt looked at Robin, seemingly examining her character through her eyes alone as the woman writhed in discomfort under her gaze. "It appears that I owe you a great debt, Robin."

"N-not at all, milady!" She squeaked, still trying to process the fact that she had quite literally been drafted into Chrom's militia of peace. "The pleasure was mine."

"Chrom!"

A blur and a scattered handful of people voicing their complaints was all that the tactician's mind registered before the prince in question was sent stumbling and she was pushed aside. Latched around his waist was none other than the familiar pigtailed healer she remembered to be Lissa — Chrom's sister.

" _Lissa_ -" Chrom grunted, trying to dislodge the girl for a moment, before finally resigning to his fate and returning the hug. "It's good to see you too."

"You are such a jerk!" She shouted, beating his chest with a fist. "I can't believe you had Frederick cart me off like a child! I was worried!"

"What?" Chrom snorted. "You thought a bunch of undead riffraff would be the end of me?"

"Not a chance!" She laughed, stepping away from him. "But I was more concerned with the miniature volcanoes."

"Chrom." Emmeryn cut in, clearly pleased that whatever suffering she had endured due to Lissa's mood was now over. "I am loathe to interrupt your bonding, but I require you to attend the council beginning shortly."

"Of course." Chrom's back straightened at the mention of the 'council'. "Uh, Lissa. Go show Robin around, introduce her to the Shepherds and what not."

Lissa saluted while sticking her tongue out, and for a moment Chrom pitied his new tactician.

"What about me?" Sully demanded as Emmeryn, Chrom, and Frederick set off towards the palace and Lissa and Robin made for the Shepherd's barracks. " _Hey! I'm still here you idiot!"_

 **O**

 **This is truly wonderful! Chrom and Lissa have been reunited! But, what of Robin and the gang? Er,** _ **other**_ **Robin? Er, Robin and the deceased gang? Er…**

 **O**

Robin lay sprawled out across the pile of straw, his eyes closed and his arms folded behind his head as he let the constant thud of hoof to earth overtake him like a rhythm. It didn't smell the best, but it sure beat walking. However…

"... _Bored…"_ The ex-tactician groaned, opening an eye and staring up at the sun. He wished he had brought a book. Perhaps scorching his retinas would take his mind off of the dull cart ride?

Suddenly, he noticed the fluffy white clouds floating across the beautiful blue sky. It was a nice change in scenery compared to the dark ash-filled skies of his home.

And thus began the cloud watching.

 **O**

The sound of steel clashing against steel rang out as Lucina blocked the sword strike of one of the Risen enemies that had surrounded her. Her arms trembled as she struggled under the weight of the over-sized blade that was pressed against her own, before she gave a fierce war cry, darted around the undead warrior and ran her Parallel Falchion through it's back in a blindingly fast series of precise movements.

Suddenly, another monster lunged out of the group crowding around her, and with a growl almost decapitated her. The princess barely dodged the attack, retaliating with a stab as she retreated out of their range.

"What is this…?" She breathed, her eyes darting to and fro as she surveyed the group. It seemed larger than when she had started the battle, and it was clear that the monsters were faster and stronger than ever. "This isn't right."

This hadn't ever happened. Not in her original timeline, and not in Robin's. The only time she had seen Risen in such large numbers was after Ylisse fell, and it was much too early for such a thing to happen. And she had _never_ seen Risen with such strength and speed. Only one man had ever produced such creatures, and he shouldn't even be aware of their existence yet.

So what had changed?

 **O**

 **Ah. Lovely.**

 **O**

"And here we are!"

Robin came to a panting stop beside the energetic girl. The tactician was hunched over, her breath coming in ragged gasps as Lissa smiled cheerfully. The princess had given little warning before taking off in a run, and Robin was loath to admit that it seemed she wasn't quite in shape herself. They had been sprinted past the Ylisstol checkpoint and up a beaten path, cutting through the corner of what appeared to be a forest before finally coming to a stop just at the edge of the trees.

"I see… how Frederick…" She gasped. "Is so in shape… how are you not _tired?"_

"Frederick does scary things to keep this army in shape." Lissa said, shivering as though a chill had run up her back. "It was him that suggested we put the Shepherds' Garrison up here."

Robin looked up, before looking around and examining her surroundings with newfound interest.

The healer had led her up a slope along a path through the forest that sat beside Ylisstol, and even from where she stood she could see the stone walls of the capital a fair distance away over the treetops where the forest dipped. Meanwhile, in front of her was what she could only describe as a, well, garrison. A large wooden structure was erected at the center of the settlement, with targets and training dummies strewn out across a field beside it. The structure, which had to be at least two stories tall, was walled with cobblestone and wood, with a single chimney sending puffs of smoke out above it. It looked rather homely, all things considered.

"Where do the soldiers stay…?" She wondered aloud, tilting her head. "On that note; where _are_ the soldiers?"

"Most of them live in the city." Lissa explained, skipping further up the path towards the building. "Only a few people live in the garrison. Like Virion!"

Pushing open the heavy door, the duo entered the building to find two people chatting. One was a large man with blonde hair and, for reasons Robin simply could not fathom, lacking a shirt who sat on one of the barrels near the fireplace. The second was an armored brunette woman that sat at one of the tables that littered the room, her expression concentrated as she stared at the flower in front of her.

"Muh?" The woman was the first to look up and at the loud entrance of the princess, her eyes temporarily resting on the tactician before settling on the much more noticeable Lissa. "Lissa? Has Chrom returned?"

"I knew that would be the first thing you asked." She giggled, skipping over to stand beside the table with her hands behind her back. "What'chya doin'?"

"D-don't tell Cordelia." Was all the woman said, sliding the flower off of the table and evidently storing it in some sort of hammer space. This confused Robin.

"Ol' Sumia here's been killin' flowers faster than Sully's cooking kills appetites!" The blonde laughed from the other side of the room, holding up his mug. "I was thinking she was gonna start takin' things from Maribelle's little garden."

"Reading fortunes again, Sumia?" Lissa tilted her head as Robin came further into the room. "I thought Cordelia-"

" _Lissa!_ "

Before Robin had so much as a chance to introduce herself to the armored woman known as Sumia, she found herself pushed aside much like before, only this time it was _much_ harder, sending her stumbling and almost causing her to lose her balance. As she recovered, her ears felt like they were physically under assault yet again.

"Lissa, my darling!" The young blonde woman that had grabbed onto Lissa by the shoulders, and was turning the girl around as she examined her from every angle. "Are you well? I've simply been on pins and needles!"

"Oh, hey Maribelle! You're back…" The princess moaned as she continued to spin. "And I'm feeling kinda barfy now."

"'Oh hey' yourself!" Maribelle plowed on, undeterred by the threat of projectile vomit from the small girl. "I've sprouted fourteen grey hairs fretting over you! I would have returned sooner, but I had been supervising the care of my father when you returned. I hurried back as soon as I heard of the events that occurred near Southtown!"

"Awww. You worry too much, Maribelle!" Lissa managed to regain her balance and gave the blonde a reassuring hug. "I can handle a battle or two! … But I could do without the bugs and bear barbecue."

"So, how 'bout Chrom, squirt?" The blonde man asked, lumbering to stand beside the group and brushing past Robin as though she didn't exist. This caused the tactician to step backwards yet again until she stood safely out of the way of everyone by the door. "I bet he had a rough time out there without ol' Teach and his trusty axe!"

"Oh, so you're 'Teach' now, Vaike, is that it?" Lissa giggled. "And here I thought people were just born lacking wits. It can be taught?"

'Vaike' or 'Teach' laughed loudly again, flexing an arm. "Ha! Never doubt _The Vaike!_ "

Robin stared at the boisterous man, before facepalming.

"... Wait…"

"Anyways, Chrom's just dealing with the council or whatever. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"Is he unharmed?" Sumia had stood up, to reveal that she wasn't wearing plates of armor on her legs. Instead, she seemed to be wearing some sort of dress and boots. Robin couldn't quite grasp the tactical or even practical application of such garments in combat, before deciding there likely wasn't one. What with Chrom's single-sleeve style and Lissa's… dress thing, Ylisse didn't seem to have a sense of fashion that coincided with her own. Back to Sumia's face instead of her weird combat dress, her cheeks had gone bright red along with her ears as her eyes darted around. "I- I mean to say… are you _all_ unharmed?"

"D'aww." Lissa grinned. "He's fine, but It's sweet of you to worry about Chrom."

"Worry…?" The woman's mind seemed to be struggling to keep up with the conversation, as though she couldn't think of excuses fast enough. "I- I- of course! He's our captain and prince! Of course I would worry!"

"Hey!" Robin blinked, before realizing that the blonde axeman Vaike was looking at her. His cocky grin had been momentarily replaced by a confused look, before reverting back to the former. "Who's the stranger?"

"Teehee!" Lissa laughed again, and Robin began to wonder if the healer had breathed in Vulnerary fumes again. It wouldn't have been the first time.

 _Wait…_ Robin hesitated, her thought process freezing at the odd phrasing.

… _Again…?_

"No one's stranger than you, Vaike! But allow me to introduce-"

Suddenly, the door slammed inwards, the wooden portal swinging forth and bashing into the tactician's back. The force alone was enough to send the young woman flying, causing her to tumble across the floorboards with a pained groan.

 _Why me?_ She wondered.

"Robin!" Chrom shouted, looking around for the tactician. "Has anyone seen Robin?"

"C-captain!" Sumia stuttered, spinning to face the prince with a wide smile. "You've returned! I was so- I mean we were so- I me-"

And then she tripped over poor Robin, causing the magician to give a whimper as she tried to recover, only to dig her knee into the young woman's back and go tumbling anyways, finally coming to a stop face-down at Chrom's feet.

"Sumia!" Chrom helped the woman to her feet, a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright? … Is it those boots again? Oh! Hey Robin."

The tactician whimpered again.

"N-no!" Sumia shook her head as she dusted herself off. "I mean yes! I- I mean…" She sighed.

"At any rate," Chrom grunted as he picked Robin up by her hood. "The council has been adjourned, and we've got a new mission. Come morning, we'll be marching for Regna Ferox."

"W-what?!" Lissa squeaked, her eyes widening. "But we just got baaaaack…"

"It is strictly voluntary only." Chrom informed her.

"I didn't say I wasn't coming!"

"Regna Ferox?" Robin asked, confused.

"A unified kingdom to Ylisse's north." Sumia explained. "It's inhabited by barbarians. Or so it's said."

"Why do we need to go there?"

Robin's head snapped to look around for the source of the voice, but found nothing. She hadn't noticed anybody else enter the room…

"Now, some of you may be wondering why we need to go there." Chrom continued, folding his arms and evidently ignoring the voice. "It's because warriors are what they are, and we'll need their strength to quell this new menace. Typically, the exalt would request such aid in person. But given recent events... well, the people might worry should my sister suddenly leave the capital. So the task has been passed to us."

"Recent events?" Sumia wondered. "You mean the monsters that have been appearing all over Ylisse?"

"More than that." Chrom shook his head, frowning. "The council has received word from the current Khan of Ferox, and tension between the Feroxi and the Plegians is high. War could break out between the two continents, and the last thing we need is Emm in the center of it all."

"War?" Maribelle spoke up. "That is ridiculous. I knew those unwashed vagrant barbarians lacked diplomatic skills, but even they couldn't be foolish enough to incite war between themselves and Plegia!"

"That's the thing." The prince seemed frustrated as he dropped into a chair at the table Sumia had been sitting at. "It isn't their doing. Plegia has begun to harass their borders, and Gangrel has cut off communications with them. It's only a matter of time before war breaks out."

"Who is Gangrel?" Robin was intrigued. "He sounds like a tyrant."

"Gangrel is the current king of Plegia." Sumia said. "He's… unstable."

"I can't believe he can get away with this…" Lissa murmured. "He really is the Mad King."

"That he is." Chrom nodded, before turning in his seat to see everyone. "And that is why I ask for your strength. Robin is our new tactician, and she couldn't have arrived at a better time. With her skills, I am confident that we will be victorious. But I cannot do it alone. If anyone wishes to back down, I will not fault you, nor will I force you. But-"

"You can't ditch ol' Teach so easily, Chrom!" Vaike interrupted the speech, slamming his mug down onto the table. "I'm in!"

"I wasn't fini-"

"I'm coming too!" Lissa chirped, cutting him off again.

"If you would just-"

"I'll go as well." Robin's eyes scanned the room, but she failed to locate the speaker yet again.

"-let me finish," Chrom continued as though he hadn't heard the mysterious voice. "I need to tell-"

"U-um… I..." Sumia spoke up, causing Chrom to pause before sighing and motioning for the woman to continue. "It's just that I'm not quite sure if I'm ready for a proper mission just yet. B-but I want to go!"

"Then you don't-"

"Hm." Sumia tilted her head. "I- I think you're right... I'll go as well."

Chrom let out a huff. "Alright. Glad to see you're not on the fence about it anymore. Everyone be in here by tomorrow morning, and we will set off north. Frederick will be coming as well as Virion, Miriel, and Sully. Vaike, I'm trusting you with letting Stahl know too."

Robin watched as everyone left, and felt as though she hadn't really said anything significant for the entirety of the chapter. It was like no one had even noticed her! She bet no one else had to put up with such a thing.

With her mood fouled, the tactician set off for her quarters.

And then she realized she didn't know where her quarters were, and from there her day just went _stale._

 **O**

"Alright…" Kellam sighed, watching the magician set off. "I guess I'll just… be here then."

 **O**

 **Meh. I was going to make a joke about Sully also being in the room, but I felt like it was best left to one's imagination. Robin didn't play a huge speaking part due to the fact that I had crammed basically everyone into the same room, and left them to fight each other over lines. Ultimately, it turned into a joke about Robin not being paid attention.**

 **I hate writing for Maribelle… and thus her lines were basically copied from the wiki. I'm doing my best to not do that, and keep the lines a tad more original and novel-like.**

 **I inserted Future-Robin and Lucina because I felt like it. Peace.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter IV**

 **On The Same Side?**

 _ **Seriously. Stop trying to kill each other!**_

 _Lucina woke up in a cold sweat, her eyes momentarily blind to their surroundings as they adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her. Slowly, her breathing calmed and her mind stopped racing as the images faded. It wasn't uncommon for her to have nightmares. She was surrounded by death and sorrow every day. But recently, her nightmares had stopped making her feel fear. Instead, she felt guilt. Guilt for being too weak to stop the nightmare at the source when she had the chance, guilt for being unable to save her father, and guilt for all but killing an innocent-..._

 _The princess shook off the thoughts, instead settling back into position on the worn pile of bedrolls. Beside her, Cynthia slept soundly, her small smile illuminated faintly by the still-burning candle that sat on the small wooden table beside her. The sun hadn't risen, and Lucina wasn't sure it would today. In fact, it was rare for any beams of sunlight at all to break through the dark clouds that surely even now lingered in the sky above the tent._

 _Quietly, Lucina reached out and stroked her sister's hair, causing the younger girl to snuggle even closer. She had promised Chrom that she would protect Cynthia, and she had obviously yet to fail her deceased father. There had been close calls over the years, and arriving in the new timeline with her had been a blessing. But now, as she lay still in the dark tent under the dark sky in the dark world, she wondered how long she would be able to keep it up._

 _It had been almost two years since the betrayal at the Dragon's Table, and the condition of the world only degraded as time passed. The Shepherds' ranks had truly been thinned out, and only a handful of survivors still remained. At this point, her and Laurent were the only people that remained fit to lead them. Cordelia had also been a part of the new leaders of the group, until their camp had been taken by surprise five months ago. The Risen had come in numbers beyond compare, and the woman had valiantly fought to push them back as Lucina and Laurent worked alongside others to pack the camp up. That night, the Pegasus Knight and her handful of soldiers died to save the other Shepherds. It was only through sheer force that Lucina had kept Cynthia from hopping onto her own Pegasus and joining the fray - literally restraining the girl and packing her onto the back of her own mount as she shouted about a fellow rider in need._

 _Now they were camped out on the border of Ylisse and Valm. Plegia was completely overrun by the Risen menace, even more so than the other continents, so Lucina had proposed that they attempt to relocate to Valm in search of survivors. Things hadn't only now gotten so desperate, but it had taken the death of her Mother's best friend to bring gravity to the situation and to make them realize the truth._

 _They were going to die if they remained Ylisse._

 _It was only going to get worse. Once the Fell Dragon awoke, and eventually it would, this world would become something worse than her own._

 _But she refused to let that happen. No matter what she had to do, no matter how many times she had to kill that bastard, and no matter how many times she had to plunge back into the familiar unfamiliar, she would change her fate._

 _Slowly, the princess's breathing grew lethargic as her eyes drifted shut and her mind dulled._

 **O**

"Really?" Robin sighed, not daring to move an inch for fear of slicing himself open on the cold point that dug into his back. He had been simply enjoying himself, watching what he considered an old friend battling against a small group of mercenaries, when the soft breathing that came from behind him hitched in a moment of silence. In the next, he found the sharp and honestly painful tip of what he could only assume to be the Parallel Falchion digging into his spine. How did he know it was that particular sword? Well… he had been in the same position multiple times, and it had become an unfortunately familiar sensation. "I thought we were past this."

"There are only two reasons that I could possibly imagine for your being here, Robin." The growl from behind him was clearly feminine, and- oh for Naga's sake, it was Lucina, no more confusing and vague descriptions. At any rate, the princess's voice was cold and clearly much more in control than when he had last seen her. They really had to stop meeting like this. "Either you are following me, or are waiting for my father. Neither bode well for your health."  
"Where did you think I was going to go?" The ex-tactician replied, rolling his eyes. He was trying to be the good guy here! He could understand her concern. He had, after all, murdered her father in cold blood. He could never truly amend for that. But couldn't she see that without him, things were going to be so much worse? Surely she had noticed the signs…

No matter how much she hated it, he had to remain. For Chrom's sake, for her sake, for Morgan's sake, and for everyone else's sake.

"In respect for the friendship we once had, I had hoped that you would disappear. Return to your own world. Vanish into this one. But now I see that that is not an option." She said, and he could tell that her temper was becoming dangerous. She was a good person, and had thought she was doing him a favor - if only to save herself the effort of killing him personally - but there was work to be done, and she was a fool if she thought his life was his own to live. It wasn't even his to give anymore. "Remember that I showed you mercy, Robin."

 _Not that telling her that would make a difference_. Honestly, he expected her to try to kill him any second now. He could see it. A slight movement, and he would be dead. His mission would fail, and as self-conceited as it made him sound, this world would fall.

Idly, he could feel the scarred and worn flesh on the back of his right hand throb and burn.

He wasn't allowed to fail again.

Before he could move, the loud sound of cheering seemed to startle the swordswoman, as the tip of her blade strayed slightly from it's position on his back, and he used the opportunity to twist out of his seat and spin to face her from a slightly safe(er) distance. He was literally only a foot further away from her, and blocked from increasing the distance by the person that sat in front of him

" _Dastard!"_ She hissed from her position a row back, her masked face barely visible under the hooded cloak that concealed her weapon and sheath. Even without taking his eyes off of her as she rose from her seat, Robin could just make out the expressions of the people that surrounded where she and him sat; confused and cautious. He had no doubt that they had seen more than their share of combat living in a continent like Regna Ferox, what with them currently being _seated_ in the infamous (or famous, take your pick!) Arena Ferox, but he had no more doubt that there were countermeasures to prevent such combat in areas like the spectator's booth. Were they to cause a scene, it was highly likely that they would be carted off and thrown in some sort of hole.

Even if it were only for a night, that was not the sort of time he had to waste.

He hated confrontation…

"Robin," She spoke calmly, the end of her blade becoming a mere flash of light as it disappeared back into the flowing fabric of the dark cloak that she seemed to be wearing over her own blue cape, likely for the frigid climate of Regna Ferox. He was no fool, however. He knew that she could draw it again in a second, and be on him in two. He had to get away. "If you share any love for Chrom, you know what you must do."

Judging by the way her mouth twisted, he could tell that his own face was likely a mask of pain.

He knew.

"I'm sorry, Lucina." He muttered, flinging his arm aside and allowing the tome stored in his sleeve to plop into his hand. Her lips formed a grimace as she attempted to rise and lunge over the bench towards him, before he flipped through the tome's pages for a brief second and confirmed his suspicions.

It was absolutely useless. A completely and utterly chaotic spell; attention garnering and no more likely to help him gain her trust.

"Arc Wind!" He shouted, hurling the book at the surprised princess as he scrambled across the occupied bench and the laps of an unfortunate gaggle of worn and haggard mercenaries. He apologized the entire way as his boots found traction on who he guessed to be the ringleader's pants, before finally kicking off and landing in the walkway near the barrier that divided the arena and the seating for spectators, then taking wind down the aisle with a whoop of adrenaline. It was only half a second before Lucina climbed over the family and sprinted after him, her sword still concealed as she ignored the looks that onlookers gave her and her bruised cheek.

It was going to be a long day.

 **O**

"F-F-Frederick…" Robin couldn't help but pity the girl that was walking alongside her. The tactician swore that her face was almost blue, and her entire frame was shaking in the wind as she marched along the snowy path. "I-I-I'm f-freezing!"

"In hindsight," Chrom spoke up, a frown on his face as he too wrapped his arms around himself. It seemed that neither were prepared for the cold Feroxi winter. "perhaps we should have packed warmer clothing. Damn it…"

Robin couldn't help but silently agree. Her robes had managed to preserve the body heat that she had managed to pack inside during their trip across Ylisse, and now after hours of being within reach of Regna Ferox's icy and metaphorical grasp, she too was shaking in her boots. The cold chill that invaded the once warm reserves of her robe felt unnatural and cool against her skin, as though she were born to live in warmer conditions.

Oh how she already missed Ylisse. And she had only known it for three days.

"Stand beside my horse, milady." Frederick replied, clearly unfazed by the frosty breeze despite riding atop a mount and being even more exposed to the wind than the rest of them (sans Sully). "She will shelter you from the wind."

As Lissa (and oddly enough Chrom) hastily took up the knight's offer, the magician allowed her gaze to wander as she scanned for any signs of civilization. Alas, after a full three minutes of searching, the only things she could see besides snow-laden trees and shrubbery were-

"Ah, I see milady is cold!" A head of cyan hair danced past her vision, and she fought the urge to reflexively draw her weapon and attack her would-be-assassin. Instead, she gripped the sides of her robes and bit her tongue. There was no assassin.

Unfortunately.

"Perhapshaps she would like to take refuge under the cloak of-"

"-The archest of archers, we've heard all the crap you have to say Ruffles." Sully cut him off as her horse trotted past the cloaked archer, causing the one and only (Robin whispered a thankful prayer) Virion to stumble out of the tactician's way and into Miriel, who seemed too absorbed in her book to actually do anything about it. "If you don't have any new lines, shut up."

"Oh, her words wound me so…" Virion murmured as he watched the Cavalier scout ahead - likely only to escape the man's presence. "It's as though she is fighting against herself, divided between accepting my charm and-"

"-Yeah yeah yeah." Robin cut the man's rambling off in an attempt to ward off the inevitable migraine she would suffer during the trip. "Listen; she's totally into you."

"What…?" He asked, faltering for a moment before standing up straight. " _Er_ , was it not obvious? Why, a woman that does not swoon in the very pr-"

"-Mhm." Robin tuned the man out, waiting until his mouth stopped moving before picking the conversation back up. "You should go bond with her. Over there."

That seemed to be all the archer needed before he and the _stupid fuzzy and likely warm cloak that he wore_ took off ahead of the party to woo the woman, and Robin quietly begged for forgiveness from Naga for consigning Sully to such a terrible fate. One little lie probably wouldn't hurt someone as hard headed and egotistical as Virion, but Sully was sure to suffer.

"Chrom?" She ignored her chattering teeth as she trudged through yet another bank of snow that had formed on the path, instead speaking her mind to the prince that stood a few feet in front of her, still huddled beside his sister and Frederick. "Can I… ask you something?"

"You've been quiet for the whole trip." Chrom replied, looking back at her over his shoulder. "Should I be worried?"

"No. I'm fine." She shook her head. "I just… what happened to that patrol? They had been devastated - torn apart. What kind of monster would take the time to desecrate them like that?"

Chrom hesitated, not answering for a moment as he visibly flinched. Shortly after setting off, they had arrived at what had been the site of a bloodbath. The corpses of beast and man alike had been scattered across the street, and Frederick and Chrom had recognized them to be the remnants of the morning North Road patrol. The prince had been both stricken and furious, and Robin almost felt sympathy for whatever had caused the squad's destruction… _almost._ However, she too would like nothing more to avenge the group, and she barely knew them. It was less their deaths and more the way that they had been killed that disturbed them. Run through with their own weapons and severely wounded before breathing their last.

And yet, even Miriel had been unable to determine the cause. There were no footprints leading to the road, only ones leading off into the forest where they vanished. It was as though the attackers had risen from the ground, slaughtered, and then returned to the hell from whence they came. All Robin knew was that it _had_ to have something to do with the magma eruptions from earlier, and Chrom agreed wholeheartedly.

Apparently, the patrol's murderers weren't very thorough though, as they had managed to find a single wounded pegasus among the dead. That was why Sumia and Stahl had decided to hang behind, the former because she seemed to be the only one the winged horse didn't try to maim and the latter to watch her back.

Letting out a breath, Chrom finally closed his eyes and spoke.

"I think it was the Risen."

"You think those zombies managed to…" She hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to speak so rashly. "Do that?"

"Not for sure, but it's the only thing that makes sense." The swordsman shook his head. "Plegian warriors appearing this far into Ylisse is ridiculous. They would have been found much sooner. I see no reason for Regna Ferox to kill our men, and I doubt they would desecrate the bodies of fallen foes. They have more honor than that."

"And I suppose random mercenaries wouldn't be able to defeat an entire patrol of Ylissean warriors." She mused.

"Right." Chrom nodded. "There are some groups that might be able to accomplish this kind of thing, but most are closer to the Plegian border. Birds of a feather flock together. It's no coincidence that this would happen now, when a new menace appears and Gangrel begins harassing Ferox. Something's going on."

While this answer didn't exactly satisfy her as a whole, it satisfied her curiosity. She supposed knowing what your enemy is capable of was always a good thing, even if the way one learns such knowledge wasn't.

And yet still, her head swam with questions as to how it all fit together. Marth, according to Chrom, had dropped from an eye-like portal in the sky the night of the earthquakes. Where did it lead, and how did he and Etzel know one another? Who had cast the spell that caused the magma eruptions?

She shivered. Her memory was gone, but still her knowledge remained. Someone that could cast a spell of that magnitude was not one to be trifled with, but eventually they might not have a choice.

Sighing, she hugged her coat around herself tighter and shook the snow out of her hair.

"Milord," Frederick spoke up after about twenty more minutes, which by the way felt like an eternity to Robin. "We are approaching the Longfort."

"The what?" Robin wondered, looking up.

Ahead, the path had begun to widen and become more tidied and maintained, with posts of stone rising out of the snowy sea. Meanwhile, the tips of huge towers had begun to poke out over the horizon, and an ever growing stone construct had started to climb up and across the heavens to become the new skyline. Her eyes widened as she scanned left and right in an attempt to spot the an end to the stone fortress. She supposed Longfort was an appropriate name, as she failed to find one.

"It's… _huge!"_ She breathed, almost tripping over a loose stone brick that had popped out of the path.

"It stretches across the entire Ylissean and Feroxi border." Chrom nodded. "They're… overachievers."

"The way they utilize their resources speaks volumes of their character."

"The khans that rule Ferox _have_ grown weary of foreigners." Frederick mused, his eyes scanning the horizon. He looked nervous. "Still, don't mistake a lack of hospitality for open hostility. This just requires… a bit of diplomacy…"

There was a drawn out moment of silence after the knight trailed off, and Robin took the moment to scan what she had to work with as Frederick did the same. Virion was chatting animatedly to an annoyed Sully up ahead, whilst Miriel tried to educate Vaike on the inner workings of the bodies she had had the chance to examine back on the North Road, who looked ready to throw up all over her Snapshot Tome. Lissa, meanwhile, was humming to herself, clearly in much better condition than before as she played with a frog that she had apparently been carrying on her person. The tactician dreaded where she might later find the creature. Finally, Chrom was scratching his chin with a distant expression on his face, as though he was doing the same as her and the Wary Knight.

Robin cursed mentally.

"Negotiation's not my strong suit," The prince admitted, still scratching his chin as they drew ever-nearer to the Longfort. "but I'll do my best. Remember everyone; your actions here reflect back on Ylisse. Leave the talking to me, and this shouldn't be too bad."

Frederick wordlessly leaned backwards on his horse, and offered Robin a sheet of paper. The mage graciously accepted, and pulled a quill out of her robes.

It was time to start forming some battle plans…

 **O**

"And there goes diplomacy."Robin muttered sourly as he slid to a stop, his worn robes going still. In front of him, the stubby hallway he had turned into had quickly ended in an old cracked and chipped brick wall, almost completely bare save for the large banner that bore the Feroxi crest. It was so bare and pointless in fact, Robin wondered exactly why it was there. It was almost as if the architects had realized they couldn't build there, and had just… cut the hall short. Or maybe it was just a lazy plot device?

Spinning, he found himself sighing internally as the candles further down the brick hall illuminated the shadowy figure of Chrom's daughter. Her blade was now drawn, its tip pointed lazily to the ground beside her, and her extra cloak was cast aside, painting a truly striking image of the real Hero-King.

"Lucina…" He spoke cautiously as she took a step towards him, her sword dragging across the bricks with a horrible scraping noise. He had hoped he could outrun her, but now he was in a tight spot. "Please-"

"You don't deserve mercy, Robin." She spoke sharply. The side of her face that was lit up by the candles revealed a grimace, and he could feel her glare through the mask that hid her eyes. "Even now, you run from what you've done. Do you know how many people _died_ because of you?!" He flinched as her voice cracked and her blade rose from the ground to point at him. "Everyone! My mother, my sister, my father!"

Her voice echoed off of the walls of the hallway, and the flames of the candles cast dancing shadows of the two across the wall.

"I'm so sorry…" He whispered finally, looking directly at her. Reaching up, he saw her tense up as he pulled his hood down. His eyes were completely dry, and he was almost certain that hers were too. Neither of them had any tears left to shed.

"Your apologies means nothing." She replied, planting her feet apart and grasping her sword with both hands. "I wish everything had turned out better as much as you do, but the difference between us is that I intend to change it!"

"I am sorry, Lucina." The ex-tactician repeated, lightning crackling has he drew his blade from within his robes. The wavy shape of the sword crackled with energy, and the handle pulsed faintly in his hands - resonating with him. It was the very sword he had retrieved from King Gangrel's body. "But you're wrong. There is a difference between us alright, but we're more alike than you know. I awoke with nothing, and Chrom gave me a family. But I repaid paid him in bloodshed, and lost it all."

"Then lower your blade." She commanded, her voice brimming with hurt and hatred. "I spoke with the shrine maiden. She told me that you are now a being of pain and suffering. Allow me to end your suffering, and avenge them. I can save this world!"

"You're wrong." He snapped, his free hand clenching into a fist as his voice raised with each word. "You can't do it alone. Tiki isn't mistaken; I am plagued by my sins. I don't deserve mercy, nor do I deserve forgiveness. But this life isn't mine to give. I won't allow anyone else to die for my mistakes, but I will _not_ let them stand in my way!"

Lucina moved almost faster than Robin could see, and he barely raised his sword before the clang of metal rang out through the hall. His arms trembled as sparks flew, illuminating the cracked butterfly mask that was in front of him.

"I don't know if you speak lies or from the heart and nor do I care," Lucina growled, "but your existence will only cause more death!"

Scratch that - he wasn't sure if he could kill her if he wanted to. While he had been traveling the ruined remains of his world, she had obviously been further improving her sword skills. Perhaps he should have been less flashy and just used some sort of lightning spell or something…

"I wish we did not have to fight," He grunted, blocking another strike. "but you are going to destroy this world, and it is going to kill you! You don't have to forgive me, you just have to work with me!"

"The time for talk is over, Grima Spawn!" She swung again, almost taking off his head. "The battle is nigh!"

" _We're on the same side!"_

 **O**

" _The battle is nigh!_ " Chrom shouted over the wind as he held his blade with one hand, and clutched Sumia tightly with the other. He was quite literally hanging on for dear life.

" _Aren't we on the same side?_ " Sumia shouted back over her shoulder, a confused but concentrated expression on her face as she piloted the Pegasus through the sky with Chrom riding on the back. Meanwhile, far below, he could just make out Robin casting spells alongside Miriel as Stahl covered Virion covering them, while Virion simultaneously covered Frederick, who also happened to be covering Vaike.

Sometimes, Chrom wondered if Robin was a tactical genius or a moron.

It had all been going so well, until he had opened his mouth. Apparently, many other brigands had recently been posing as Chrom and the Shepherds themselves, and the Feroxi were quite wary of anyone claiming to be from Ylisse. They had made this clear when they had attempted to murder him with a volley of javalines, and it had looked like the end for the prince of Ylisse. His cape surely couldn't stop _all_ of them.

Then suddenly, down from the skies flew Sumia on a Pegasus, and she had literally swept him off of his feet. Had it not been for her, he would be doing a remarkable impression of a dead porcupine about now.

" _Not anymore!"_ He replied, pointing down to where Robin and the others were. " _The Feroxi seem to value strength above all else, so let's give them a fight! Bring us down there!"_

 **O**

 **Guess who's back?**

 **I said Maribelle was hard to write, but Virion gave what-for. I read through a few of his supports, and kind of wrote him weird. I woke up one day, read through this again, and realized; "Woah! I wrote him…** _ **weird…**_ **"**

 **So now he's less weird, but probably still weird. I didn't get the chance to show how wise he is or whatever, but all in good time. Meanwhile, Miriel didn't get to say anything, because they are all still brawling for lines.**

 **Oh, and, uh, I suppose semi-regularly is a good word for it. It'll get updated faster or slower depending on how long the chapter is (This has been in the works since the last chapter. Nine pages, not bad!), if I run into any problems or conflicts story-wise (I'm bound to screw up the timeline sooner or later.), and if I spend forever writing only to realize that I've been producing nothing but garbage for the past three hours - which happened in chapter three. I have a whole nother draft sitting around here… I hope I don't find it...**

 **Anyways, I'm feeling very compelled to write this, so it should all turn out well.**

 **All's good.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fire Emblem: Awakening - _Again Again_**

 **Chapter V**

 **All The Salt**

 _ **Welcome To Filler Avenue; Permanently Under Construction**_

"A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom." Raimi said for around the third time as she led the group of Shepherds through the many halls that made up Arena Ferox. Apparently, this is where the Khans spent most of their time. Even through the stone walls, Robin could still hear the clash of steel and the roar of the crowd. "I truly took you for brigand impostors. But no frauds could ever wage a battle as you just have!"

"Hell of a fight." Sully murmured from beside the tactician, though her glaring at the floor made it hard to tell if it was sarcasm or not. It would seem the Cavalier was still mildly upset that she had been left out of the battle plan. To be honest, Robin had completely forgotten about her, and only when the redhead had saved her life did she remember that she existed. She hadn't even remembered that Lissa had actually joined the expedition as well, and so the young girl had spent most of her time watching unsure of what to do.

While she, Chrom, Sumia, Sully, and Frederick had all followed Raimi through the streets of Regna Ferox towards the large arena that sat as a centerpiece to the capital, Stahl, Miriel, Vaike, Lissa and Virion had all taken off to explore the city.

It had taken much convincing on the prince's part, as Lissa had been rather adamant about seeing the arena, but ultimately Chrom had played dirty by pulling the I'm Older card. However, the others had been much easier to bribe with promises of food, interesting characters, warriors to battle, and women to woo respectively.

"I have already notified the Khan of your arrival, and he awaits you in the arena's observatory." The Feroxi Knight informed them as she pushed open a large door of wood and metal.

Instantly, the roar of the crowd hit them in full force as the sounds of combat and socializing poured through the doorway, a storm of cheering and scraping metal.

"Amazing." Robin breathed as the woman marched ahead. "Her whole demeanor changed…"

"In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words." Frederick sighed, stone faced as ever. "I should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here…"

"I didn't even get to try…" Chrom said, his head lowered. "I failed you all…"

He wasn't going to live that down.

Leading them down a set of stone steps and past rows of seated observers, the group finally came to a stop at the divider that separated the arena below from the spectators. "Khan Basilio." Raimi said, standing straight as a board. "I have brought them as you requested."

Robin eyed the man that she had addressed. He was a tall and imposing figure, seemingly ignoring the group as he shouted over the divider down at the fighters. His armor was made of a polished gold, and the back of his collar had been completely covered in a rich white fur. What she especially took note of was the way he stood confidently despite being surrounded by men and women that cheered alongside him. It was as though he hadn't a care for anything except the battle occurring below, and for a moment she wondered how he could be so aloof.

He was completely unguarded, save for his armor, and standing unconcerned among peasants. Did he not fear for his life? He certainly didn't seem like the type to fear much…

And then a flicker of movement caught her eye.

Standing directly beside the Khan, a man dressed in blue cloth and brown leather had turned to face the group. Remnants of dried blood seemed to have stained the shoulder of his tunic, and a hand was openly placed on the pommel of the exotic blade that was sheathed at his side. His eyes were narrowed, darting from left to right as he scanned the group. She tilted her head as he took a step to the right, further away from Basilio and the approaching Shepherds, and Robin couldn't tell if he was a bodyguard or an assassin.

"Come on!" The Khan shouted in a gruff voice, shaking a fist at one of the fighters below. "Don't just stand there!"

"Khan." The man beside Basilio spoke, his tone stiff.

"Eh?" He turned to face the group, revealing a hard dark face with a leather eye-patch over his left eye. Despite the lack of one eye and the relaxed expression, his set jaw and sharp gaze spoke volumes of his character. After a moment, his face broke into a grin as he examined the five. "Ah! You're the kids that beat the hell out of my border guards! _Gahahar!_ " He laughed. Robin couldn't help but cringe at the gravely sound. "I wonder how well you would have done against them five weeks ago… bah. It doesn't look like it matters now!"

"What was different then?" Chrom asked, a look of confusion on his face as he stared at the man. The khan of Ferox wasn't exactly what he had imagined… he was a fool to have not seen it coming, though.

"Those damned freaks killed half my guard!" He growled, a distant look in his eye. "I haven't been able to replace them without them dying the next day!"

"The Risen…?"

"That's it," Basilio nodded. "they started attacking last month, and have been going at it day after day. I've been running out of men that I can trust to watch the Longfort…Luckily, they've given up for now."

"I see." Chrom nodded. The Longfort had a notorious history of being corrupted by less than honorable guards, though the last time he had heard anything about it had been from a history book. It seemed Regna Ferox had learned its lesson. "I don't think I have introduced myself. I am Prince Chrom of Ylisse." He offered his hand for a good old fashioned handshake.

Basilio blinked, before his face broke into a grin and he grabbed the prince's hand. Chrom winced. His grip was like iron.

"Basilio, West-Khan at yer service. I'd guess these are the… er…" Basilio hesitated as he scanned the group. "Look a bit young to be the royal guard… Gah. It's on the tip of my tongue. Lon'qu?"

"Shepherds." The man in the belted tunic supplied, his eyes still narrowed. The way his thumb was just under the guard of the sword made Robin uneasy, as if the blade was already drawn.

"Right! Bawhaha!" He gave another gravelly laugh. "Sounds like a bunch o' farmers!"

"I know, right?" Robin agreed, causing Chrom to shoot her an incredulous look.

"Robin!"

"With all due respect, it _was_ a poor choice for the name of Ylisse's militia, milord."

"Frederick! You too?!"

"'Oh no, the _Shepherds_ are coming!'" Sully spat, her arms folded. "You were a dumb kid, Chrom, and your brains haven't gotten any bigger."

"You're all on my payroll."

Everyone shut up.

"My apologies, Khan Basilio." Chrom sighed, turning to face the man. He grit his teeth as he spotted the wide and rather smug grin on his face. "I haven't introduced my companions yet. This is Frederick, Sumia, Robin, and Sully."

"Aye." Basilio nodded towards the man that had remained as stone-faced as Frederick throughout the ordeal. "This is Lon'qu, my former champion. Not much for talking mind you, but peerless with a sword."

"Former champion?" Chrom wondered, eyeing the swordsman. "If he's as tough as he looks, then I'd hate to see your new champion."

"I still can't figure out how he lost." Basilio admitted, shaking his head. "Bah! Enough with the introductions. You came here to ask me something, yes?"

"I did." Chrom nodded. "I came to request for your aid."

Robin stared as the two stood tall, and even though Chrom barely came up to the man's shoulders, the wills of the two could almost be felt. It honestly amazed her how blunt the request had been. However, with politics the way they were in this country, then perhaps bluntness was the best course of action?"

"Recently, a new menace has risen up to terrorize the land." He continued, not breaking eye contact. "Mindless undead warriors. Their strength is beyond that of a normal man, and their speed is not lacking either. I don't know where they have come from, but if you provide men to aid our cause then I intend to send them back there."

Basilio paused. He stared for a long moment before giving a loud laugh. "You've got a warrior's spirit, boy. But I cannot provide the men you ask for."

"What…?" The prince did a double-take, his eyes darting from Lon'qu to the West-Khan.

"Why not?!" Sully growled, her stare sharp as she glared at Lon'qu. Lon'qu glared back.

"My army is in disarray, boy." Basilio said simply, turning back to watch the bloody battle. "I can't afford to run a charity right now. One mistake, and Ferox is good as dead."

"Without your men, we don't stand a chance!" Robin said, tearing her eyes away from the glaring contest held between Sully and Lon'qu. "We have a common enemy."

"That we do, lass." He shook his head. "I may come off as the type to charge into battle on a whim, and in any other situation you'd be right. But even I can see that if I give away men to go on the offensive, Ferox is wide open…" Basilio didn't turn around. "Sorry, boy. If you're looking for help, you won't find none here."

"Lying to our guests, I see."

Everyone save for Sully and Lon'qu turned to see a tanned woman approaching from the right. Her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail, and a frown was on her face. Her armor was a shiny silver, with a dark skirt and greaves over her lower legs, and a long broadsword was strapped across her back. Her eyes were hard, and filled with experience, as though she had seen countless battles, and there was little doubt that she had to the more observant of the Shepherds.

"Flavia." Basilio grunted. "What is it now? I hope you aren't just trying to get my attention! Looking at you as little as I do hurts like hell, and I've only got one eye!"

"I didn't come to speak with you, oaf." Flavia said, not even looking at the man. "I came to speak with our guests, only to find you filling their heads with nonsense. You are Prince Chrom, correct?"

Chrom hesitantly nodded.

"This old fool doesn't know what he's talking about." She continued on, folding her arms. "I am Flavia, the East-Khan of Regna Ferox."

All of the Shepherds blinked, almost simultaneously. While he didn't express it, Lon'qu did an internal fist-pump as Sully cursed and looked away with her arms crossed.

"You're the—?!" Chrom let out a gasp, his eyes widening before he cleared his throat. "Er, that is to say… uh…"

Robin elbowed him in the side as Sumia motioned for him to backtrack.

"I am. And I have a proposition for you."

 **O**

"Hello?!" Kellam waved furiously to Chrom and the others for the umpteenth time, before sighing and plopping into one of the untaken seats. "He noticed me in the fight, and then… I just faded into the background. Aw…"

Suddenly, he noticed a small paper bag held out to him from the seat to his side. Following the arm and expecting to see someone that had yet to notice that their arm was in someone else's face, he instead found something quite different.

"Bear Jerky?" The man offered, bag still extended.

 **O**

It had been over twenty four hours since Robin had escaped from death. It was her fault. She hadn't expected him to use such… interesting tactics, but she supposed that had been his job; thinking outside of the box. And he had been good at it.

Half way into the battle, when she swore she had him on the ropes, a small gang of miscreants had attacked. It was the luckiest twist of fate for the ex-tactician, and the worst for the princess. When her attention was divided, he had used some form of spell that had filled the hall with a dark mist. When it had finally cleared, the man had vanished.

She had taken her anger out on those responsible for his escape, and they would be… well, drinking their mead through a straw for some time.

She wasn't quite sure why they had thought that interfering with a duel between two experienced combatants had been a good idea, but she doubted they would do it again.

Because she was so vigilant in her duties, she had decided to turn her attention towards learning about the unfamiliar spell he had used.

She had never before seen Robin utilize any form of dark magic - as far as she knew, he _couldn't_ \- and yet the closest thing she could compare the spell he had uses to was Ruin. It had been used against her enough times for her to recognize the popular dark magic that Plegian Sorcerers seemed so fond of, but it wasn't possible.

While she completely outclassed Robin in swordsmanship, he was leagues above her in magical arts. She would even go so far as to say he was one of the best in Ylisse. If he had actually casted Ruin in that hall, she and the men she had defeated wouldn't have walked out on their legs. They would have been dragged out and buried out back.

And yet, it had affected her no worse than a facefull of smoke.

Lucina let out a huff as she watched her father greet Basilio on the other side of the arena. Surely even now the ex-tactician was lurking, likely even watching them from elsewhere in the arena. But with so many people, she stood no chance of finding him. The only advantages the crowds gave her was that she too wasn't so easily noticed, and assassinating Chrom would be all but impossible without drawing the attention of everyone in the building. She wasn't sure how he was connected to Grima, but either way no move would be made against her father. The Fell Dragon, assuming he had direct control over him, wouldn't waste such a valuable pawn when so many things could go wrong, and if not then Robin himself likely realized that he stood no chance at defeating everyone. Even he would become exhausted long before they were all dead.

No. He wasn't going to make a move.

Not yet.

"Most interesting…" Her ears perked up, but she did not turn to acknowledge the voice. "It seems to be an autonomous reaction, likely based around the nervous system… What if I were to-"

" _Ow!_ "

"Miriel! Stahl is _not_ an experiment!"

Turning, she found a small group of interesting characters pushing through the wooden doorway. The area she was located in was actually more of a storage bay than anything else, but still could be used to view the arena. She was fairly certain few people even knew of it, and fewer still had the tools to unlock the door.

It was a blunder to leave the door the way she had. But at the same time, she found a part of herself not regretting it as she came face-to-face with her aunt.

Yes. There she was, standing at the head of the trio, a disapproving look on her face as she scolded the mage Miriel for her less-than-ethical experimentation with what appeared to be a small mallet - and Stahl's elbow.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up as it dawned on her that they weren't alone in the room, and there was a moment of silence as she stared directly back at 'Marth', as though she could see through the mask. "... Marth? Wow! I didn't expect to see you here! But, I guess all great fighters show up here eventually, right?" She giggled. "Or, at least, that's what the pamphlet told me."

"Indeed." She composed herself, making her voice slightly deeper as she spoke as 'Marth' once more. "I did not expect to see you here either, milady. Quite the coincidence." She paused, kind of zoning out for a moment. She hadn't ever been in the storage room the first time around, so there was nothing to say that Lissa's troupe hadn't bumbled in here in the previous timeline, and yet still it was remarkable that they of all people had run into one another. "Perhaps in a way, our fates are intertwined…"

Lissa adopted a thinking expression as she somehow, despite her dress-cage-thing, managed to plop down atop one of the toppled barrels as her companions did the same.

"Like… Oh!" She smiled. "I know! Invisible ties!"

Lucina forced herself to bite her tongue. She didn't care to know where the girl had learned the phrase, and it took all her willpower not to snap at her. Strong bonds hadn't served her well before, and they hadn't saved her father. When it truly mattered, it came down not only to skill but to willpower.

"Of course." She shook her head, banishing the thoughts. "How did you happen upon this place anyways? I had thought I was one of the few to know of it, and forgive me for saying so, but you don't look the type to frequent Arena Ferox."

"Ah…" Stahl coughed, drawing the warrior's attention to him as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "That might have been my doing. I guess my navigation skills are a hit-and-miss." He sighed. "Ordinary, all in all."

"It is a scientific marvel." Miriel informed her, straight-faced. "Truly."

"Anyways, you haven't seen my brother wandering around, have you?" Lissa cut back in, tilting her head. "This place is huge! It's easy to get lost."

"I have." She pointed over the tarnished bronze banister, across the arena and towards the Shepherds - and her father. "He appears to be speaking with the Khans. While I cannot lead you there, you must simply follow the hallway around. This one wraps around the entire arena."

It was true. The upper hallways circled around the entirety of the arena, and had multiple stairwells leading down to different segments and rooms. She had had plenty of time to map it out in her head when she had arrived the night before.

In total, she had likely slept about six hours in the past thirty nine, and now the sun had nearly set once more.

Fortunately, her body had become accustomed to operating with little to no sleep. She had spent many nights lying awake beside Cynthia, listening closely for the sounds of Risen or worse.

It usually didn't take long before her justified paranoia forced her to rise from the pile of bedrolls and patrol the camp till the wee hours of the morning, when the clouds grew slightly brighter and the others were awoken by their internal clocks - or the morning people they shared their tent with.

"Huh." Lissa frowned. "Stahl, I think we've found something you are _less_ than ordinary at. He's way over there! … Hey; why are you up here anyways? Don't you get lonely?"

Lucina paused, her mind racing to construct a believable excuse. It likely wouldn't look good if she was spying on Chrom like some sort of… _Tharja._ But at the same time, revealing too much might lead to… something bad. Her expression grew grim as her thoughts continued to build up momentum.

"I'm here to serve as Khan Basilio's champion." She blurted curtly, wincing. Giving information of the present was preferable to that of the future, but it still left her uneasy. For all she knew, a few words could destroy the world or something. "I prefer to observe from the sidelines, learning my opponents before I fight."

"Wow. Smart!" She popped to her feet and leaned forwards, peering over the banister. "I guess I wouldn't really gain much from observing _my_ enemies, especially in combat, but in Ylisstol it makes it so much more easy to slip frogs into beds!"

"I knew it." Stahl muttered, shivering as though he could still feel the slimy creatures crawling on him.

"At any rate, you should rejoin your brother." Lucina said, turning back to the arena. "It's not safe to wander the arena alone. There are dangerous people lurking about, and I would not wish to see you hurt."

"Pah." Lissa stuck her tongue out, crossing her arms. "I can take care of myself. A few miscreants wouldn't stand a chance against Stahl and Miriel anyways."

"Perhaps so." The princess replied, knowing that the girl was right. "But sometimes it's better safe than sorry. You wouldn't wish to worry Chrom, would you?"

Lissa gave another toothy smile. "Chrom's _always_ worried! But I guess it _is_ getting late. I'll see you around!"

Lucina didn't watch the girl skip off as her companions followed suit, though perhaps a tad less energetic.

Instead, she watched the movement below and listened to the clash of steel as the shield of the man below caved in, the metal crunching under the heavy blow of the axe his opponent wielded. It seemed to have taken one too many of the powerful blows, and now he was left at the mercy of the executioner.

She grunted and turned away from the piercing scream, placing a hand on the pommel of her sword and closing her eyes.

She had seen far too much bloodshed for a woman of her age, witnessed the same war fought and the same people die too many times.

Stalking off and closing the heavy door behind her, Lucina turned and retreated down the hall opposite of the direction she had sent her aunt.

No matter what, she couldn't watch it again.

 **O**

 **It's been a while. I've been busy, but I finally finished this chapter. Likely by the time you see this, I've already almost finished the next one. I'm doing my best to put out at least two or three chapters per month, but it's tough to consistently make quality content with such a deadline, what with my life going on and all. However, I fully intend to see this story through, as I have tons of excellent ideas for the future!**

 **Also, this chapter was flat out not funny. I'm so sorry… ;-;**

 **In other words, sorry for being late, but** _ **tada!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Fire Emblem: Awakening - _Again Again_**

 **Chapter VI**

 **Siege!**

 ** _Welcome to the beginning of the end of the beginning!_**

The halls of Arena Ferox were, for the first time since her arrival, quiet. The torches that lined each passage continued to burn, but otherwise it was completely lifeless. The few windows that were placed where they could be showed glimpses of the snow-covered city that surrounded it, as well as the deep blue night sky.

Dusk had long since leaked away past the horizon, and now the liveliest places were watering holes and inns, both locations Robin wasn't exactly keen on visiting. She could hold her own against a few drunk idiots, but all the same preferred to keep out of the way. She wasn't a fan of confrontation.

She paused her stroll at a peculiar window, which was, unlike the others, clean but cracked in a vertical curve. Beyond the crack, the crescent moon hung high past the Longfort, watching everything with its eye-like craters.

The tactician was currently located at the northern side of the arena, her hood now drawn down in the peaceful moments of her halted walk. It had been about an hour or two since she had excused herself from the feast, and she estimated it to be well past midnight.

Her reason for her take of absence was to go for a walk and clear her head, and she was doing just that. The arena was huge; an architectural marvel all in all. Despite it's purpose, it helped serve to calm her nerves as she explored.

She wasn't sure why, but halfway through her meal a cold pit had formed in her stomach in place of the hot food she had eaten. It unnerved her greatly for reasons even she couldn't explain, and she had finally given up on attempting to enjoy her food. Instead, she had set off to see what she could see, and she was feeling a great deal better than before.

To recap, after her arrival Flavia and Chrom had temporarily left the group to their own devices. Chrom had insisted that anything he could be trusted with could be told to his allies as well, but she had been equally firm about her words being for his ears only.

Robin wasn't sure what had transpired after that, but ten minutes later the pact had been made and the Eastern Khan had thrown a feast in honor of the Shepherds.

She sighed, drawing up her hood once more and setting off down the hallway - past the square of moonlight and back into the deeper torch-lit depths of the colosseum.

It had been a long day, and still no questions had been answered. Much to her dismay, it had even taken a while before her inquiry as to where the restrooms were was answered. It had felt like an eternity, and she felt foolish doing what Vaike had referred to as 'the potty dance' whilst she waited.

But more than that, she felt none the wiser to the rising threat that was the Risen. It seemed that even Regna Ferox had no idea as to where the threat originated from, only knowing how to kill them - and 'stab it until it dies' hadn't been very insightful either.

Ferox was turning out to be a very simple country.

Shaking her head, Robin shoved her hands back into her pockets and continued her stroll. The uneasy feeling, while faded, still remained inside her. If only she could figure out what it was?

Suddenly, she was jostled out of her thoughts as she ran into a Deus Ex Machin- _er,_ man! A man that she thought she recognized! Yup.

The tactician let out a surprised grunt as she almost fell over, instead stumbling backwards with her arms attempting to flail. Unfortunately for her, her aforementioned hands were still jammed in her aforementioned pockets, and thus she simply tumbled onto her rear with a hiccup. Meanwhile, the Deu- _man_ had also fallen backwards, barely managing to remain standing as he braced a foot behind him.

" _Oof!_ " She heard while she tried to regain her bearings. Her thought process was a delicate one indeed, as were those of most geniuses and other master thinkers. She had been buried so deep in her thinking, that she had basically forfeited her own physical functions to ascend to a higher level of thinking.

Also, she hadn't been paying attention in the slightest, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the man she had run into had also been lost in thought. Or else he was blind.

"My apologies." She finally shook off her surprise and looked up, only to find a marred hand extended towards her. She wasn't sure why it stood out to her, but what she especially noted was the scarred and twisted flesh that decorated the back of the extremity. It was a mix of pale whites and pinks, but most notably a distorted and out of place dark purple that was barely visible under the poor lighting. "I mustn't have been paying attention…"

Her gaze traveled further up, and she suddenly realized that the man before her was none other than Etzel. Under the hood, a look of recognition flashed across his face too as his lips twisted into an uncertain line.

"R-Robin?" He stuttered, pulling her to her feet and stepping backwards, much to the tactician's confusion. "I didn't expect to see you here…"

"Nor did I." She admitted, brushing her cloak off and pulling back her hood. As she expected, he made no move to do the same. "I didn't realize we were coming to an arena of warriors. I had expected something a tad more… diplomatic."

Etzel hadn't changed much since she had last seen him; his robes were still tattered and frayed, though she was fairly sure that several of the tears on his arms and shoulders were new scars to the garment, and under his cowl she could just make out the silvery strands of hair. It was him alright. What were the odds?

She frowned.

Not good.

"I thought you had said you were visiting the capital of Ylisse? You missed it."

"Of that I am aware." He chuckled, a good hearted laugh. Though it would have sounded forced, and almost anxious to the more observant listener. Fortunately, Robin was indeed quite observant. "After the events that occurred near Southtown, I thought it best to investigate further. My search led me past the untouched capital of Ylisse, and to Regna Ferox."

Robin nodded hesitantly. It made sense, sure. But something about the entire story felt… off. All the same, she didn't wish to come off as rude. As far as she was concerned, when someone appeared more than once in her life, it made them a main character. And main characters tended to be stronger than the grunts she had dealt with thus far.

"At any rate," Etzel shook her out of her thoughts once more as he turned to leave, and she stopped leaning on the fourth wall for a moment. "I still have important things to look into. There is much research to be done, and my best bet would be to poke around an inn or something similar. If anyone has any knowledge on them, I should be able to find them there... Farewell, Robin."

"Wait!" She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he visibly tensed up at the physical contact. "I need to ask you something before you go."

He looked over his shoulder at her, a confused look on his face. "Yes?"

She didn't release her grip instantly, instead taking a moment to mull over an appropriate choice of words.

"Are you, by any chance, from the-..."

Etzel waited patiently as she trailed off, and it took a moment for him to realize that her brow was furrowed as she released him and looked around. The torches had begun to flicker wildly, despite there not being a single breeze to be felt, and her expression was growing more and more curious by the moment as she stepped away from him.

"... Am I from what?" He finally asked, and she seemed to be too distracted to notice him gulp nervously.

There was a drawn out moment of silence as the torches continued to flicker, and Etzel began to feel uncomfortable as the tactician continued to look around.

"... I forgot what I was going to ask." Robin finally said, causing Etzel to grin weakly. "I dunno why. It happens sometimes. But does the air feel thinner to you?"

Etzel paused at his, and his entire body went ridged as he held up a finger. She could see a frown form on his face as he too felt the shift in the atmosphere. It was as though the hallway had simply run out of air for them to share, and she was already finding it a tad harder to breath, even if only by a little.

Suddenly, what felt like an earthquake shook the entire hallway - likely as well as the arena - and Robin was almost knocked off of her feet again as she stumbled into the wall. Meanwhile, Etzel had crouched down and his cloak was flapping in an invisible breeze much like Robin's as the entire building continued to rumble.

"What in Naga's name-?!" She shouted over the cracking of stone as loud crashes almost drowned out the sound of the shaking earth. Thankfully nothing was exploding, but the torches had been cast out when the world started to rock.

" _Risen!_ " Etzel shouted in response - staggering to his feet before the shaking had even stopped - and grabbing her arm firmly. "Follow my lead!"

Before she even knew what was happening, Robin found herself being dragged down the hall she had come from by a man she most certainly did not trust, and likely towards certain death. The tactician almost tripped over her own feet multiple times as she struggled to keep up with the alarmed mage, until finally he slid to a stop further down the corridor.

Robin managed to stop as well and avoid running into him, and it took her a moment to realize that the dark hallway was lit by a faint blue. Indeed, it was the passage she had stopped in previously. The cracked window was where Etzel had halted, and a look that she did not like was reflected in his eyes.

"Why did we stop?" She asked him, taking the moment to snatch one of the scones off of the wall and light it with a quickly breathed spell. "The others could be in-"

 **O**

 _Danger._

This word was flashing through his head over and over again like an alarm bell as he stopped in his snowy tracks. Chrom was close to the main gates of the Longfort, and had been searching for Robin for a good twenty minutes now.

He had intended to ask her about battle plans for tomorrow, only to realize that the tactician had left the dining hall before their temporary rooms were even assigned. This, needless to say, would prove even more problematic for her when she wished to sleep.

But now, as he stared up at the silver moon, he was thinking this was the least of his problems.

Even now as the last of the tremors faded into a silence, curious men and women were pouring out of the buildings that surrounded the prince, demanding to know what was going on.

"Th' hell is happen'n out here?" A man with a rather rough face demanded, his wiry beard soaked - likely with alcohol.

" _What was that?"_

" _An earthquake?"_

" _Are we under attack?"_

Mumbles of the crowd came from all around as the wide street was flooded with people, and all they could do was ask questions that Chrom didn't even have the answers to.

"Prince Chrom!" Chrom turned back to the Longfort, only to see Frederick speeding through the crowd atop his horse, an urgent look on his face. "Are you alright, milord?"

"I'm fine, Frederick." The prince reassured him as he approached. "Not even a scratch."

Suddenly, the crowd parted to the left of the knight to reveal a blue-haired man stumbling forwards, a bow slung over his shoulder and a wreath of flowers atop his head. Virion, as Chrom recognized him, seemed to be having his weight supported by his harem, as the leg of his trousers was stained with blood. A small smile was on his face as he made his way towards-

Wait.

Chrom did a double-take.

 _ **Harem?!**_

"Thank you, ladies." Virion thanked the women as they helped him lean against Frederick's horse, much to the horse's displeasure. "You have all done me a kind service on this night, and I will ensure that the bards across the lands sing not only of your beauty, but your kindness."

Some of them giggled while others waved before they hurried off.

"Something's wrong, milord!" Frederick shouted over the sound of the crowd.

However, Chrom wasn't paying attention in the slightest to the now much more active and energetic crowd, nor his loyal mini- _er_ , ally. Instead, he was staring open-mouthed at Virion, who was still leaning against Frederick's horse. The prince cared little for the fact that the man was staring in horror up at the sky, and even less for his bleeding leg. No - he was staring at the flowery wreath on the duke's head.

"I couldn't agree more, Frederick…"

Meanwhile, up above, the sky had split into a gaping eye-like portal just in front of the moon, replacing the blue moonlight and casting the snowy city in a blood-red light. Vectors of crimson energy were spiraling slowly down from the sky, twisting and turning as they lethargically approached the earth below. It was like a scene from one of Sumia's books; except more terrifying and with less goblins and leather whips.

Or perhaps just less goblins and leather whips…

Chrom frowned. It had been a rather trauma inducing read. He simply didn't understand why Sumia enjoyed it.

Suddenly, screams began to break out across the crowd, though they were almost drowned out by the sound of steel being drawn and flesh being torn, as well as terribly familiar roars and groans.

" _Risen!_ "

Another scream reached Chrom's ears, and he clenched his teeth. An unmoving barrier that the crowd had to pass around to escape, his hand fell to the pommel of his sword as images of the patrol flashed through his mind.

There was no further time to think as the crowds of people thinned further, and he could now see the undead beasts rising out of the earth where the tendrils of red met the ground.

" _Shepherds!"_ He shouted in a strong voice, pointing from Frederick to Virion and an approaching Vaike, Miriel, and Sully.

" _Defend those fleeing, and battle back these dastards! We will not falter!"_

 **O**

"Stahl!" Lissa squeaked, almost tripping over her dress as she struggled to match the Cavalier's pace. He was visibly sweating as he held her by the wrist tightly, sprinting down the snowy passages of the city with the significantly smaller princess in tow. "Do you even know where we're going?!"

"No idea!" Stahl replied, breathlessly as he continued to run. Behind him, he could still hear the stumbling of the group of Risen that had begun to chase them. "Just keep running! We've got to lose them!"

He had been trailing after Lissa, keeping her out of trouble as Chrom had ordered him to. It was also, in part, for her protection. Though neither would tell the healer that, as it would make the former job all the more difficult.

The princess had been eyeing a new healing staff, one that wasn't covered in blood and battle damage, when screams had broken out all throughout the market square. Moments later… well, after some ducking through alley ways here they were; running for their lives.

While some might have found such a sudden shift in activities humorous, Stahl certainly did not.

Lissa forcibly tugged on his arm, slowing him down and shaking him violently out of his thoughts. Before he could ask if she was perhaps slightly mad, he saw what the problem was.

Ahead, a wall of soldiers had formed, blocking the path forwards. Stahl's hopes that they were allies was instantly shattered as he spotted the glowing eyes and crusted battle wounds. It seems that trouble has… ARISEN! Ha!

"Now's no time for terrible puns, Lissa…!" Stahl said, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder and pulling her close. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of the problem they had found themselves in, but the least he could do was his job. "Stay close!

"I didn't-" Lissa began, confused. She was almost instantly silenced as Stahl pulled her aside, just narrowly avoiding being speared by a javelin.

She let out a shout as a Risen swordsman rushed at her, and bashed the monster in the side of the head with her trusty staff. It hadn't accumulated battle damage from _healing_ people, after all. Sometimes, she just had to let off some steam! Spinning, Stahl quickly followed up the healing-staff attack with a downwards strike from his sword, the silvery steel vanishing into a cloud of dark mist as the soldier began to dissipate.

"So this is how I die…" He huffed, sword trembling slightly as the beasts began to close in on the two. There was no way he could kill them all... "I had honestly expected this to happen a bit sooner…"

The Cavalier forced a grin as he raised his sword high. It was a last ditch attempt to make the enemies hesitate, and at the very least give Lissa a chance to escape. His generosity knew no bounds.

Suddenly, a piercing cry broke through the moaning. The sound of twenty necks simultaneous snapping to face the source of the cry almost drowned out the sound for a moment, and Stahl got a face full of black powdery mist as he did the same. Sputtering, he swiped the shadowy cloud aside as the clanking of armor rang off of the buildings around them.

A Risen soldier dressed in heavy metal plates and a thick steel helmet lay bisected, face-down in the snow. His hand was clawed as he attempted to rise, an inhuman screech echoing from within his helmet as he eroded into dust. Lissa stared in horror and fascination as his hand broke away, returning to the earth.

Above the dying creature, a man dressed in a faded blue coat was standing still amidst the soldiers. His expression was unimpressed as he looked around, one hand hanging at his side and the other resting on the pommel of his undrawn sword.

"... _Urgh…"_ He frowned and looked down at the dissipating foe. "What did I just step on…?"

 **O**

"Chrom!" Robin shouted, waving to the prince as she sprinted down the snowy street. Beside her, Etzel was matching her pace as he flipped through several tomes. "What's going on?"

Chrom turned to face the pair in surprise. Blood had matted part of his hair to the side of his head, and his chest was rising and falling quickly as he breathed. He had certainly been busy. Whatever he had been doing before had taken his toll on him, and he was now leaning against the wall of one of the buildings that lined the street.

"Risen…" He panted as he gestured to the Longfort further down the street. There weren't many people about, but the tracks at dotted every inch of the snow-covered road suggested that his hadn't always been the case. "They appeared behind the wall… It's not safe here. We need to get these people out!"

"Where are they?" Etzel asked, seemingly having settled on using a faded yellow tome. "If we don't relocate them now, we might find it a much more daunting task later."

"Sully and Virion are trying to organize them at the local inn. Or rather, Sully's shouting at them and Virion isn't helping ease her temper."

"So in other words nothing is being accomplished."

Chrom gave a weak grin in response.

"Wonderful."

Robin ignored the two, instead narrowing her eyes and looking around. Risen were pouring into the street from the alleyways, only to immediately be engaged by the Feroxi guard. All the same, things weren't looking good. There seemed to be no end to the hoards, and the street was already beginning to crowd with corpses, undead and very. The guards were doing their best, but one by one they were falling.

Not good.

"Any word from Basilio?" Robin wondered, firing a bolt of lighting off in an attempt to assist the guards.

"No." The prince replied, shaking his head as he took another breath. "Basilio hasn't been seen since this hellish invasion began. Only his men."

"Incoming." Etzel noted, standing in front of Chrom and pointing behind Robin.

The tactician turned quickly to find a small group of Risen approaching, seeming to have broken through the wall of guards that had placed themselves between the Longfort and the Arena.

She flipped her tome back open, preparing for battle. It would appear that they weren't going to wait for the dialogue sequence to end.

"And before you try and stand; don't." Robin ordered, pointing her sword over her shoulder as she chided the prince. "We've got this."

"They're strong!" He warned instead. "Be careful!"

 **O**

 **What an odd spot to end a chapter, am I right?**

 **I'm sorry. It's been almost a month. I'm sick right now, but I needed to finish and put out something since we're halfway through May.**

" **Did the Support Conversations for Corrin and Robin delay this? Focus, man!"**

 _ **What?! Psh…**_

 _ **No!**_

… _**Maybe. I've got the attention span of a god damn squirrel, alright? I got a bit distracted! Jeez!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter VII**

 **This War**

 _ **We Will Change The State of War!**_

 **O**

 _Robin stood still._

 _The cart lay in ruins just ahead of him, flaming hay being scattered across the dirt path by the wind. His expression was grim as the old man behind him tried to rise, only to fall back down with a groan._

" _Time Travel is a funny thing, isn't it?"_

 _He bit his tongue, not rising to the bait that the figure across from him had cast. Their voice was singsong, a polite chime as they scratched their head._

" _It causes as many problems as it fixes. Haven't you guys figured this out yet?"_

" _You aren't real." Robin snarled, drawing his hood down and glaring at the figure. "Step aside and let me pass."_

" _Geez." They drawled, giggling despite themselves. "What's up with you? Look!"_

 _Suddenly, the ground in front of him split into an ugly crack. He covered his face with a sleeve as white-hot flames rushed up from below to greet him, scalding his arm and forcing him to step back._

 _As the fire receded, his eyes widened. The crack didn't disappear, instead growing larger until a thin rift separated him from the playful caster. The remnants of the cart, as well as the injured horses that had been pulling it, were all swallowed by the tear in an instant._

" _I'm as real as it gets!"_

" _How?!" Robin shouted, drawing his weapons in one fluid movement as the figure stepped closer. "You're a nightmare of the past! This world doesn't belong to you."_

" _And you're a ghost of the future, Grandmaster Robin." They sighed, turning their back on him and casting aside the red and gold tome in disgust. "It's not what we are that defines what we do, it's what we do that defines what we are. I think you said that once?"_

 _Robin said nothing, watching as they strolled off into the dawn._

" _You'll only ever be a pawn." They called over their shoulder, drawing their hood down to reveal fine features reminiscent of his own. "The state of this war is mine to decide."_

 **O**

"Are you unharmed?"

Lissa took a deep breath as she cradled her arm. The man known as Lon'qu had been guiding her and Stahl through the city for the past half an hour now, and the healer was beginning to get worried as they came across more and more Risen threats.

She wasn't sure what had become of her brother, but it unnerved her greatly that things had happened so quickly. What if Chrom hadn't had a chance to react before they struck him down? What if Sumia had tripped and fallen on her own lance? What if Miriel _actually_ got to see the inside of a person?

Chaos. The Shepherds were a formula for chaos. And that was before the apocalypse.

Shaking the unwelcome and traitorous thoughts away, the princess instead looked up towards the source of the most certainly masculine voice.

It was much to her surprise that she found a darkly colored mask staring back down at her, slits where hints of cerulean poked through, swathed in shadows. The figure that was attached to the mask was no less impressive, with a strong but lean masculine figure and a flowing blue cloak.

There could only be one person fitting that description, and it took all of Lissa's willpower not to fan-girl on the spot.

"Marth!"

"I asked you to bring them to me unharmed." Marth said as he hoisted the girl to her feet, turning his gaze on a certain unimpressed Myrmidon.

"The Princess was already hurt before I arrived." Lon'qu scoffed, folding his arms. "Besides; I don't take orders from you. I bring them at Basilio's request."

"What is going on?" Lissa asked, leaning on her healing staff. She would use it to heal herself, but it was as though some sort of universal mechanic prevented her from doing so. It was rather annoying, actually. "Have you seen my brother?"

"Risen have infiltrated the city." Marth replied, not at all mincing his words as the girl's eyes shot wide open. The swordsman's demeanour shifted slightly as he spoke, and had the princess X-ray vision she would have seen his eyebrows furrowed. "The streets are running red. I will lead you to prince Chrom, and you are to escape with him."

"What?!" Lissa shrieked, clearly still slightly caught up on the Risen invasion. "What about the others?"

"Your companions will be joining you." He responded, turning and beginning to make for the alleyway's exit.

"Not my friends, dummy!" Lissa reached out and tugged on his cape. "What about the innocent civilians?! We can't just leave them!"

Marth froze, stopping in his tracks as his back straightened like a board. He was silent for a moment, back still to the cleric, before finally he spoke:

"People die… I'm sorry, Lissa." He continued on his path. "Perhaps one day you'll understand the weight behind all of this."

Lissa stared at him.

Stahl, who hadn't said anything, stared at Lissa.

Wrong answer.

Lon'qu frowned, sensing danger.

 **O**

Another Risen soldier dropped into the snow, felled by book and blade as Robin flicked her sword clean again. She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath as she eyed the approaching threats. Five coming from down the street to her right, and another dozen or so coming from the Longfort to the left.

"Where are they coming from?!" She finally shouted over the sounds of clashing steel. At this point, the guard line had dissipated into corpses and ash, and it was taking all of her concentration as to not join their ranks. "I retract my previous statement." She narrowly avoided decapitation at the hands of a Risen-wielded Poleaxe, before throwing a weak kick at the foot soldier. By some miracle, it stumbled backwards and made for an easy target with her lightning tome. "We most certainly don't have this."

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?!"

"I concur." Etzel agreed, ignoring the indignant cry of the downed prince. "We've bitten off more than we can chew, as they say. We would do well to retreat."

Robin didn't like it, but the mage was right. Things were getting worse as the battle raged on, and the only thing that had kept her where she was had been the thought of survivors from the Feroxi Guard.

However, as the seconds ticked by and the masses built up, such hopes were all but dashed underfoot by the medieval equivalent of a speeding zamboni - which is a lot more terrifying than it sounds, as it were.

"Of course." She nodded, clearly satisfied with his observation. "Just allow me to cast Blink, and warp us to safety!"

"You can do that?" Chrom wondered.

" _No!_ " She brought what, in essence, was a bronze club shaped like a sword down upon the helmeted head of a fallen foot soldier, causing a loud thunk to ring off of the wall behind her. "We're trapped, I'm running out of Mana- er, _I'm feeling fatigued,_ there is a horde of zombie warriors approaching, and I have a cheap metal stick! _We're done for, Chrom!_ "

"Oh. Okay."

Etzel frowned, clearly not impressed by the outburst as he leapt over a not-so-pole axe strike and slammed the pommel of his electric sword into the visored face of a Risen Knight, before giving a shout and spinning away with an outstretched hand.

" _Thoron!_ "

Instantly, there was a blinding flash as a beam of gold light tore across the street, shredding anything and everything in it's path until it collided explosively with the wall on the far side of the road. The nearest Risen soldiers were decimated, with the first and foremost knight turning into a cloud of dark ash on contact with the devastating spell.

Robin unconsciously looked down at her own tome.

 _Lightning._

She honestly felt that hers was more meaningful than some flashy uni-beam ripoff off anyways...

"Why didn't you do that before?" She asked, cooling off slightly as she was given a moment to catch her breath. "I can see it's durability, you know."

"I can only use it so many times." Etzel replied autonomously, hurling the worn (Yet still 23/25) yellow book into the crowd and eliciting a shout of pain, much to the tactician's dismay. "That's why I carry my Levin sword!"

"Which you can only use so many times." She deadpanned.

F.Y.I, 21/25.

"This joke has officially run it's course." Chrom groaned, trying and failing to rise. His breath was now coming in ragged gasps as he winced. "Got any other secrets left, Etzel? If you could clear us a path through…"

"Therein lies the problem, Chrom." Etzel replied evenly, slashing diagonally at a lightly armored Risen troop. The crackle of the sword tearing through leather was accompanied by the ripping of the blade tearing through flesh. (20/25) "I have a few, but none that I'd be able to use."

"Stats too low?" Robin wondered, stomping all over the fourth wall yet again as she blasted at another soldier.

"What? No!" Etzel shook his head as he clashed with another enemy. "I haven't slept in days. I've all but exhausted my natural supply of magical energy, and using these weaker spells alone is taking it's toll on me. Were I to use the more powerful ones… well, I'd most likely be incinerated in a painful and generally horrible fashion, before being scattered as ash in the wind and inhaled by my enemies and allies alike."

There was no immediate comment on the description of his theoretical demise, and for a moment the only sounds were those of combat as he and Robin fought back the swarming horde.

"Let me do it."

Chrom shot up from his slumped position, his back going rigid as his eyes widened. He seemed to instantly regret it however, as he quickly fell back against the stonework, closing his eyes and groaning. "No!"

Etzel, meanwhile, said nothing.

"I've got plenty of energy left." Robin, who had been the one to volunteer explained calmly, slashing - or rather battering - another approaching hostile with her blunt, glorified baton. "I'd be able to do it without, uh… wait, did you say incineration?"

"Don't do it, Robin!"

Suddenly, she paused. Looking up into the blood red sky, she realized that it had begun to snow down onto the city. All the same, the void up above blocked out the moon still, and the stars barely shone through the crimson smog in the air.

"Very well." Etzel reached into his robe, before withdrawing a red leather-bound book. It seemed to have been well cared for, and the spine was reinforced by a strong golden metal. Instead of moving to give it to her, he ducked under a swung poleaxe and tossed it to her.

"Etzel," Chrom's tone was stressed, desperate and full of warning. "you'll kill her."

Robin ignored him, instead catching the tome out of the air in a rather awesome fashion. Flipping through it as she retreated behind Etzel, she frowned.

The pages were lined with intricate runes - beautiful symbols that glowed like fire. Her eyes skimmed over the spiraling text, round and around until the final letter ended at the direct center. If she were being honest, it looked kind of like a smiley face! Silver lining!

"Alright." She let out a breath as Etzel forced the wall of enemies back with a wave of enchanted wind. "Here I go… Yup."

Chrom grimaced as he watched her step up to the crowd of monsters, her pigtails billowing dramatically in the snowy wind.

"Robin! No!"

"Chrom, I'll have you know I'm not the dying sort." She dropped her one-liner, smiling as she raised a hand. "Here goes nothing!"

Chrom closed his eyes, not wanting to watch his friend turn into ash.

Etzel stared.

Robin continued to smile widely, but nothing happened.

"... Is there a problem with the tome?" He asked finally, firing another gust of wind into the crowd as she lowered her arm. Chrom opened his eyes and gave them both a confused look.

"Here I go!" She repeated.

Chrom closed his eyes again, bracing himself for the worst as Robin raised her hand again.

"Robin! No!"

Robin continued to grin like a fool as Etzel began to gasp for breath, though he continued to cast spells all the same.

"... I'm sorry," Robin apologized nervously as she looked to Etzel, lowering her arm again. "just wanted to get this out of the way; did you say incineration?"

" _Go!"_

"Robin! No!"

" _Bolganone!_ " She shouted, pointing two fingers at the horde of Risen as the tome's pages flipped on their own accord.

Immediately, the air grew thick as the sky grew a shade brighter. Her eyes widened as the snow began to drift down even harder, helixing with bits of ash from the sky. The entire street shook and rumbled, and a wave of heat washed over her as her robes flapped in the hot wind.

Suddenly, a jet of magma exploded from the snow covered street, tearing apart the Risen that had been occupying the space it now claimed. Those around it were charred, melted, and reduced to ash in a fashion similar to the way Etzel had described moments before.

Robin stepped backwards, using the tome to shield her face as the heat blasted at her, melting the snow around them.

It also reminded her of something else, even as several more jets exploded upwards and the street was split.

It smelled like pork chops.

Actually, those two things were unrelated. Rather, it reminded her of three things. Pork chops, Etzel's theoretical doom, and…

"Huh." She mused to herself, before her eyes widened. Her shady-as-shit senses were tingling.

"Now!" Etzel shouted as he hoisted Chrom onto his shoulder, supporting the man's weight with his arm as he began to hobble through an opening that had formed in the crowd of monsters. "We have our chance!"

Robin was hesitant to follow, instead staring at him; open mouthed.

"Come on!"

She shook off her daze, shoving the tome into her coat and dashing after him.

She now had even more questions than before.

But she also had a way to get answers.

 **O**

Lucina let out a grunt as she kicked open the door of the inn, before stumbling inside. Such a task would have been trivial under normal circumstances; she could have just opened the door like a normal human being and walked in.

However, the kicking and screaming princess draped over her arm qualified as abnormal circumstances.

"Basilio owes me." Lon'qu muttered as he followed her in, followed in turn by Stahl and Sumia.

The inn wasn't a normal inn. Obviously.

From what Lucina had seen outside, a normal building wouldn't have lasted seconds under the onslaught that now plagued the capital of the Halidom's northerly neighbors. Most buildings had already been cleared out by the Risen marauders, and now the city was mostly quiet save for the clanking of armor as the zombie-like soldiers shambled about, searching.

What were they searching for? She wasn't sure. She had some ideas, though — her father being the most prominent on the list.

Rather, the inn was located _within_ the Arena. It was a large segment of the northwest portion of the building, wrapping around the actual combat-ready center and spanning from top to bottom. It was huge, and built for more… rowdy customers.

In the hour after the siege had begun, many those that couldn't fight had retreated to where they had thought they would find people that _could;_ namely the Arena. There had been a large panic as the guards tried to maintain order, and eventually the tavern inside the arena had been repurposed as a refugee shelter - though it seemed that many preferred to wander the arena anyways and hang out in other places.

Unfortunately, just as many had thought to try and escape the city. It seemed that the Risen hadn't liked that.

"Do you need any help?" Sumia asked, clearly looking like she didn't want to try and help with the gremlin under Lucina's arm.

"No."

Sumia had greeted them at the gates, and was serving as their guide through the arena. She had been worried sick, but Lucina was just glad to see her mother was alright. In keeping with her character, she was _still_ worried sick as Chrom had yet to return. However, she had reassured her that he would be fine. For all the good that did her, anyways.

All the same, doubts were likely lingering in the head of the Pegasus rider. It was probable that Chrom's return would be the only thing to ease her mind, and her tripping had grown worse than ever in the meantime...

"Let me go!" Lissa shouted, trying to wiggle free of her grasp as the time traveler dragged the girl towards her destination as gently as she could. "There are still people out there, Marth! What about my brother?!"

"Basilio has informed me that prince Chrom is working to assist the Feroxi Guard that are trying to fight back the attackers." She said, losing her patience as she drew nearer to a certain pair of Khans. "Should they fail, they are to fall back and-"

"We're back!"

 _Oh good._

Lucina's head instantly did a full 180 degree turn, and the sound of bones cricking could clearly be heard as the rest of the sounds in the lively inn died out. Soldiers stopped arguing, healers stopped arguing, Basilio and Flavia — who were standing directly in front of the bar by the stairs — did _not_ stop arguing.

At the door they had just entered through, Chrom was leaning on Robin… Female-Robin's shoulder, and blood was running rivets from his scalp and down his face.

"Chrom! Robin!" Even with all of her training, she couldn't stop the princess from breaking free of her grasp and sprinting towards the injured prince and tactician. "Are you alright?!"

"Captain!" Sumia cried in synch with the girl, attempting to do the same only to trip over air and land face down on the floor. Lucina stared at the woman as she made no attempt to get back up, and for a moment wondered if she would ever actually be born in this timeline.

"Chrom?" Basilio stopped looking at Flavia, instead spinning to face the door with the grace of a dancer — discounting the man that he accidentally knocked out with his elbow. "You've returned, eh? And what about my men?"

Lucina frowned at this. Chrom seemed to tense up as Robin winced; both indicators that the guards were no longer fit for duty.

"Attention! Attention?" She sighed instead of getting angry. Beside the two, another cloaked figure was holding their arms up as to ensure that everyone was paying attention.

Could she not catch a break?

"So, the guards are…" 'Etzel' seemed to be trying to find the best way to convey his message as he tilted his head and hummed. "Well, the guards outside have all been horribly killed in action. However!"

She froze, her blood running cold.

It was at that moment that she remembered Robin did not do well when in came to delivering speeches to audiences. He left that to Chrom, instead preferring to deal with managing the Ylissean army and directing troops. She wasn't sure why he could do one but not the other, and he hadn't ever given an answer to the question.

The entire room seemed to go silent, as if everyone had stopped breathing all at once. Meanwhile, Robin was humming to himself again.

"... Nevermind. They are very dead. Sorry. However! I'd advise that you refrain from panicking-"

Instantly, the sound of chair legs scraping against floorboards drowned out whatever else he was saying as several people began to scream. Across the room, Lucina could see Flavia sighing as Basilio turned and downed his drink in an instant.

She stepped backwards as someone ran past, screaming all the way until they collided face-first with the wall.

She slowly closed her eyes, and placed her hand over her mask.

When she removed the hand, another person slammed into the wall.

Nope.

It was for reals.

 **O**

"That could have gone better." Chrom sighed, holding the vulnerary-covered rag to his forehead as Lissa dabbed some of the blood away. The rag wasn't actually disinfecting anything, but it was warm. "Please refrain from…" He hesitated. "doing _that_ again."

"In my defence, someone needed to tell them." Robin replied, resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped up on the table. He was sitting directly across from the prince, with other-Robin on his right and Lucina on the other side of the tactician. "And I told them not to panic."

 _The tactician that stole his job…_

"There were better ways of telling them." Other-Robin said, sipping from her water as she leaned back in her chair. "Like a poster."

"That's hardly better." Chrom sighed again.

"What about a memo?" Robin tried again.

"No. Stop."

"The point prince Chrom is trying to make is that you should have kept quiet about it, _Etzel_." Lucina said, leaning forwards to see him past Other-Robin. "The chaos you caused was uncalled for."

"Uh-huh." Robin leaned back in his own chair, mimicking the pose of the woman beside him. "Delivering it gently would be pointless, _Marth._ They would panic either way, and getting it out of the way now means that we can proceed with figuring out what to do next sooner rather than later."

"And now you've officially lowered their morale, _Etzel._ Was that part of the plan?"

"Well _Marth,_ I'm sure it _was_ as far as you're concerned. I'm only working for the safety of the people."

"Watch your tongue, _Etzel._ Lest I-"

"Oh, are we resorting to threats now, _Marth?"_

"Not threats, but warnings. I'm not the kind to stab a man in the back without a warning, _Etzel."_

Robin didn't reply. Instead, he shrugged and scratched his nose. This only further enraged the woman, causing her hand to stray towards the handle of her sword.

He didn't realize it, but he tended to be a master of getting under people's skin.

"Enough!" Chrom roared, slamming his fist down on the table. His headache seemed to be getting worse by the second, and his blue eyes were hard like glass. "I don't know what's going on here, but I get the feeling that _you_ two _do._ I've heard enough of this banter to know it annoys me to no end."

Lucina instantly dropped her hand, shrinking backwards ever so slightly at the rage of her father. It was a reflex at this point.

"Now if you aren't going to tell us what's going on, then stop getting in the way of one another's attempts to help."

"I-I didn't-" The princess stammered, clearly stunned. "h-he's-..."

"You are both idiots." Sully summarized, slamming both of her hands down onto the table and causing everyone to jump.

"That wasn't exactly what I was trying to-"

"I'm not your gods damned translator, Chrom." Sully shot him a glare with bloodshot eyes. "I've been working beside Ruffles for the past few hours now. Outside of fighting."

Everyone was silent at this proclamation. Virion in all honesty wasn't a bad dude. But for unfathomable, or perhaps fathomable reasons, the Cavalier seemed to possess a deep seated sense of spite for the archer.

"'Point is, you don't have to _like_ each other." She growled, snatching Stahl's drink from in front of him and taking a sip from it. "You just gotta work together. Or else you're gonna get us all killed."

Lucina didn't say anything in response, clearly trumped as she glared at the table silently. Sully's word was as lawful as Chrom's, but she didn't dance around or mince her words.

Robin let out a sigh of relief as Other-Robin quietly slurped her water.

It seemed that things were looking up for once.

"Oh!" Other-Robin spoke up, raising her hand. "By the way, I still have Etzel's tome."

Robin could cry right about now. As he glanced at his female counterpart, he could see the questions in her eyes. He could read her like an open book, really. He was once extremely similar to her, right down to her meta sense of humor.

He knew that she knew, but she did not know that he knew she knew he… uh.

He knew that she knew, however she did not know that he knew what she knew, which was in fact something that she should know as Robin is a master tactician, and thus all-knowing.

Robin frowned as she opened her mouth. He seriously had to fight the urge to throw his hand over her mouth.

"So basically, I'm doing my magic stuff, right?" She waved her hands. "And then Etzel's all _blah blah blah, be a hero, blah blah blah._ So He gives me this tome, and I use it because I'm magical, right? And you know what it reminded me of? Well I do, because I'm me. It reminded me of-"

Instead, he put both of his elbows on the table and used his robe sleeves to cover his mouth as he leaned forwards, giving a quiet murmur.

Immediately, he could feel his right hand burn and throb angrily. He could just see the purple glow shining out of his sleeve, and then it faded away.

"It's-" She coughed, freezing mid-reach for her robes. After a second, she broke into a fit of coughing. Each time she opened her mouth, she lapsed into another fit of hacking. "It's-"

"Robin?" Chrom shot to his feet, leaning on the table as Lissa darted around to stand next to the tactician. Other-Robin reached for the table with a shaky hand, before falling out of her chair and onto the floor beside Lucina, coughing all the while. "Hey! Robin!"

Robin didn't react, closing his eyes and ignoring the heavy feeling in his heart.

It was necessary.

" _Robin!"_

 **O**

 **I've still been sick as crap, which has left me time to write this. It didn't come out as well as I'd hoped, but Saturday is almost here and I have nothing else to upload.**

 **Hooray for not planning ahead, as well as lack of work ethic!**

 **What a plot twist, amirite?**

 **Drama! Drama everywhere! Why did he do it?! What did he do?! Oh the questions this raises!**

… **Or perhaps you're all geniuses that have figured it out and torn my plot's asshole wide open…**

 **Who knows?**

 **Anyways, I appreciate the feedback you've all provided thus far. See something I'm constantly screwing up on? Feel free to let me know, and I'll look into it.**

 **Also, don't ask me what happened to Female Robin's character. I honestly have no fucking clue... I'm going with character development.**

 _ **Ciao!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter VIII**

 **Bound By Fate**

 _ **It Looks Like We Don't Have a Choice!**_

 **O**

 _Now was that really necessary?_

 _It was. I… I can't do this alone. If she doesn't trust me…_

 _How very... tactical of you._

 _You wouldn't understand… Get out._

 _Hm?_

 _Get out of my head! You have no right to judge me!_

 **O**

"Well?" Chrom asked as Lissa shuffled past him, leaning over the bed and placing a hand on the woman's forehead. "Is she alright?"

"I… think so." Lissa replied, wiping her hand on her dress and frowning. Below, Robin was lying peacefully on the cot, her eyes closed and her mouth ajar. "I can't… I dunno. I can't see what went wrong. She looks healthy, and doesn't have a fever."

"Ngh." Chrom grunted, stepping aside as another healer bustled past, leading an injured soldier down the row of beds. "Then why did she collapse?"

"I told you; I dunno." Lissa bit her lip. "I think she'll wake up, but… I don't know when."

"Why don't you use a healing staff?" Marth asked, arms folded as he leaned against the wall beside the bed.

"They don't work." She explained, tapping the end of her own staff against the side of the cot. "They won't interact with her at all, meaning that she's perfectly healthy."

Chrom was silent as he stared down at the tactician of the Shepherds.

"Did you get Etzel's tome?" He finally asked, turning back to his younger sister. She seemed to startle for a moment, before quickly nodding and rushing to the woman's bedside. He watched curiously as she picked through the numerous objects scattered across the nightstand, such as the dark coat that the silver-haired mage wore as well as a small stack of lightning tomes, with a blunt bronze sword balanced precariously on top of them.

Finally, Lissa produced the red gold-bound book from before, and carefully handed it to Chrom.

The prince was startled by the weight of the tome, before conceding that it _was_ three inches thick and bound by gold and leather. He noted that Marth was leaning closer as well, examining the book from the other side of the bed.

Turning it in his hands, he prayed that mages didn't use weird porn to cast their spells as he gently placed a hand on the cover. It was smooth, almost new — ornate, sure, but not something you would expect to be magical. Flipping through it, his eyes scanned the pages as he leafed through page after page, until finally he reached the end of the book. His eyes were wide as he slammed it shut.

"Well?" Marth asked, leaning even further forwards. His mask gleamed in the candlelight of the makeshift sickroom, and the prince got the feeling that Marth was getting a tad _too_ into trying to find a connection between Robin's condition and the tome. It was creeping him out.

"It…" He frowned, "It's not in english…"

Marth facepalmed.

As Chrom had said, the tome was written in a handwritten scrawl. Each letter, or rather symbol, curved until the text spiraled inwards. He couldn't make heads nor tails of the mysterious writing, and after a moment Marth too gave up.

"I doubt they're connected." Chrom admitted, shaking his head. After all of that, he felt rather bad for suspecting the mysterious mage. "If anything, she might have fallen to stress."

"Perhaps." Marth mused, dropping the tome back into the pool of black fabric with a muffled thud. "I obviously don't trust him, so it's understandable as to why I would be more dubious of that claim. But I have my reasons."

"You don't trust him? That's all?"

"Actually, I despise him." He amended.

"But why?" Chrom demanded, crossing his arms as he stared down the masked man. "What happened?"

"Forgive me for keeping secrets, but this is one that I will likely take to the grave." Marth said evenly, looking away. "I failed... That's all you must know."

Chrom didn't move as Marth turned and disappeared with a swoosh of his cape.

"Nailed it." Lissa chirped.

"Quiet, you." Chrom turned back to the leather bound book, and gently reached out to run his hand along the cover. "Let me know when Robin wakes up. I'm going to go talk to the others, and see if we can find a way out of this mess."

"Oh, OK!" She nodded, clearly pleased with being entrusted such a task. "I'll just sit here and watch the comatose amnesiac snore for what might be hours on end as you guys go talk about important things without me! Yup! Got it."

"I'm glad you understand." Chrom replied, satisfied with how responsible his younger sister was being. "I'm counting on you."

"Wait! _Chrom!"_

As he left, he glanced over his shoulder and surveyed the makeshift hospital quickly. It was a secondary facility, thrown together on a whim once the attack had begun. It was constantly being filled as healers tended to soldiers, using their staves to close wounds and herbs to cure poisons. Beds had been hauled in from the other rooms, and lined up in a semi-symmetrical fashion; a glum reminder as to the desperateness of the situation.

Climbing down the stairs at the end of the hall, he entered the ground floor of the Inn to the familiar sight of depression.

Sumia was plucking at a dead flower frantically as Sully glared daggers at Virion, who was trying to catch the attention of a small group of women that were mending damaged equipment at a hurried pace. Miriel was reading a book in an isolated corner, while Stahl munched on a piece of bread eagerly beside a brooding Marth.

Vaike was doing push-ups in the center of the room, with Etzel sitting cross legged on his back and offering words of encouragement with each rep.

Meanwhile, Basilio was laughing heartily as Flavia sipped from a bottle of wine crossly. They appeared to be in a heated argument, and were talking so loud that everyone that wasn't part of Chrom's party were giving them looks.

"I'm not joking, you hard-headed oaf." Flavia growled as he approached, causing the West Khan to do a double take.

"What?" Basilio choked on his drink, slamming his glass down on the bar counter. "Then you're as crazy as I thought. I 'aint giving up the gods damned city to these freaks!"

"Then you'll die here as you lived here - making stupid decisions."

"What are you two talking about?" Chrom asked, sliding into the stool beside Flavia. "The Risen?"

"She wants to evacuate the city, lad." Basilio grumbled into his mug, seeming to have regained his ability to breath. "But we Feroxi are fighters! Unless you've forgotten, Flavia?"

"This city is a lost cause, Basilio." She argued, shaking her head. "You're as dumb as they come. If we stay, we die!"

"She's right, Basilio." Chrom said, his mouth forming a frown. "I wasn't jesting. The guards that were outside are dead. The Risen are clawing at the walls, and the injured that are pouring in are in no shape to fight. You've been defeated."

Basilio let out a gravelly laugh, as though the notion of him losing was hilarious. "Then we'll die in our home, fighting to our last breath! This is our last stand."

Both Flavia and Chrom watched as the man got off of his stool and lumbered off, grumbling to himself about something or other.

"What a fool."

"I respect his word," Chrom sighed, leaning on the counter heavily. "But his word is not that of his people. They are scared, and many would flee in a heartbeat. It's my job to guide them, and if he stays I cannot stop him."

"Well said." Flavia nodded, offering him her bottle. He declined politely. "This country's heart isn't in it's capital, but the people. It's up to me and you to save them."

"Right." He stared at the counter. "No pressure."

"Just another part of the job, boy." She laughed. "Now we'd best get to work. Assemble the… uh, Shepherds."

 **O**

"Shepherds, _assemble!_ "

Chrom paced back and forth in front of the group. All of the aforementioned people in the room had gathered in front of the counter, and now Chrom was strutting across it with his hands folded behind his back.

The women Virion had been trying to attract had seemingly become fed up with the racket, and were curiously nowhere to be seen - much to the archest of archers' dismay.

Tables and chairs had been dragged out to make makeshift seating for the lot of them, and now they were all scattered across the various pieces of furniture.

The only clear table was at the far corner to Chrom's left, where several objects had been relocated from it as to make room for someone to sit. Oddly enough, seemingly no one occupied the spot, yet no one moved to claim it.

Comedically, Marth and Etzel had ended up directly beside one another, and their discomfort was apparent. However, the prince was still nursing a migraine that had developed due to their squabbling, and he thus felt little remorse for such an outcome in seating.

"We're all here, Chrom."

Chrom was silent.

"Oh!" Sumia seemed to hiccup as she looked over the group once more. "Sorry." She cleared her throat. " _Shepherds assembled, Captain Chrom!"_

He nodded as she returned to her spot beside Stahl. "Very good. Now, as you all may know; the situation is dire.

"As we speak, Risen soldiers are amassing just beyond the walls of Arena Ferox. Their numbers seem endless, and their goal is unclear. Regna Ferox is under Siege, and anything inside is liable to destruction, death, and injury. We have no idea where they are coming from, and at this moment approximately half of the city is dead. Any questions so far?"

"When's lunch?"

"Sir Chrom, is there a desirable ending to this tale?"

"Teach'll smack 'em with his axe, and then we'll see what's up!"

Chrom cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the room as he turned to face his troops. "I regret asking if there were any questions. Does anyone have any contributions to this report, perhaps something useful?"

Marth raised his hand, causing the prince to raise an eyebrow. Marth hadn't said anything since he had been in the sickroom, and Chrom was beginning to wonder if the mysterious swordsman was so into his cliche that he was going to stay that way until they all died horribly.

"The Risen are mindless creatures." He said simply, resting a boot on the table and allowing the other to dangle above the ground. "They aren't as smart as a regular human being. We cannot beat them in numbers, but they lack the coordination to beat us in tactics."

"He's right." Etzel said, causing the man to bristle. "For every soldier that has died on the battlefield in the past, there is a Risen warrior fighting in the present."

"I see." Chrom sighed, not asking how they knew what they did. He would likely only receive a cryptic response for his troubles, after all. "So escape truly is our only hope…"

"But if there are as many as you say, then isn't it time to bend over and kiss our asses goodbye?" Sully demanded, leaning forwards so that she could see the mage, and the mage in turn could see her dubious expression. "'Cuz that 'aint happening."

"Obviously." Etzel agreed, rising to his feet gingerly. "That's why you're going to listen to what I have to say."

"You have a plan?" Chrom asked, thankful that someone had something other than requests to use the bathroom. "Because we're rather short on those at the moment."

"I do." Etzel nodded, though his tone was a tad more sullen than before. "I am not exaggerating when I say that it's the best option we have. I've been thinking it over for the past hour now, and… well, this is likely the only way anyone will get out of the city alive."

Chrom didn't like where this was going. Everyone intelligent enough to feel the same had tensed up with each word, and now the entire atmosphere was wound up like a coil.

"We won't escape by force alone. Even if they lack coordination, the Risen are numerous. No matter how hard we try, we won't break through their line without the use of trickery. If we want to get to the Longfort's gate, we must think outside of the box."

The prince frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

"The Risen are creatures of combat, brought back from death to bring death. They are naturally drawn to combat." He explained, shaking his head. "If we can manipulate where they are when we rush the south gate, the main platoon of soldiers won't have much trouble defending civilians."

It dawned on everyone at the same time. The entire room sucked in a breath, and then there was no sound at all.

"... Suicide." Stahl finally said, glaring at Etzel. "You suggest that we send men through the city as diversions so that the path to the Longfort is clear."

He nodded wordlessly.

"Absolutely not." Chrom growled. "Lives aren't tools to victory."

"In this case, our weapons are tools to defeat, Chrom." Etzel said, not looking him in the eye. "This path is the only one where anyone survives."

"He is right, Chrom." Marth said, also avoiding meeting the man's gaze. "If we do not wish to be slaughtered upon departure, then…"

"They have families!" Chrom exploded, dropping down from the counter and clenching his fists. "We can't ask them to give up their lives for our cause!" No one said a word as his voice cracked and his anger seemed to evaporate, his eyes becoming downcast. "This isn't the way of the Shepherds…"

"We don't have to sacrifice soldiers."

Everyone looked up simultaneously to find a new figure standing on the counter. Clad in heavy silver armor and wielding a lance stood none other than Kellam, his eyes seemingly shut as always.

"Kellam…?" Stahl wondered, staring up at the knight. It was as though he had come from nowhere. "Are you our god out of the machine? Have you come down from the hea-"

"Uh, no." He pointed a finger to the desolate corner where no one had been sitting – or so they thought. "I was here the whole time."

"Oh. Okay."

"Truly mystifying…" Miriel murmured, scribbling something in her notebook.

"Explain yourself, Kellam." Chrom said curiously, wondering what the knight had to say. "What do you mean?"

"The soldiers could all be in the escaping group, and the diversion could be comprised of Shepherds." He said, causing the man's eyes to light up. "We could ensure that the Risen are distracted, then escape ourselves afterwards."

"If the soldiers make it to the gate, they can defend it from the outside until we arrive!"

Everyone cheered.

"We ride at dawn! … Wait, no, we ride at lunch!"

Solution!

 **O**

"Idiots!"

Lucina flinched ever-so-slightly as her eyes followed the flying object's trajectory, before finally the loud crash of the potted plant smashing into the wall met her ears.

Robin, meanwhile, was storming about the room, pacing back and forth with his hands in his hair. He had pulled her aside, much to her chagrin, and brought her to what apparently had been assigned as his temporary room. It was by no means lavished, with hard floorboards and no windows. The scones where candles once were placed were cold and bare, and the only source of light in the room was a single white wax candle in the corner of the room, balanced precariously atop a stack of books on his bed.

Literally almost all of his furniture seemed to have been removed for use elsewhere, and the bed was the only thing that remained.

Save for the late potted plant, of course.

"They must be suicidal." He growled, reaching the not-so-far wall of the admittedly not-so-large room and doubling back. "Did they not hear the part where the diversion _dies_?!"

"Calm yourself, Robin." She ordered, her patience waning. "If you have nothing more to do than throw a tantrum, then I'm leaving."

"Right…" He breathed, running a hand along his face. The dim light of the room made him look twenty years older than he actually was, and the thin scar that ran from his lip to his jaw cast a light shadow across his lower face. "Apologies."

"You have to think, Robin." She said, trying to keep her own cool. She definitely wasn't keen on watching her father die again, but things weren't looking good. "There must be a way to fix-"

"There's no way to fix your father's _pigheadedness_ , Luce!" He exploded again, dropping onto the floor and pulling out a smaller leather bound book. She watched curiously as he flipped it open and began thumbing through the pages feverishly. "I never planned for anything like this, and my solution was created on a dime. I thought about _every_ other outcome!"

She stared as he flipped through each page, one after the other filled with messy notes and sketches. Each page had a common tally in the corner with a skull beside it. "You put a lot of thought into this…"

"Why wouldn't-..." He broke off into silence. "...Right. Nevermind."

She sat down beside him quietly, taking the notebook out of his hands and leafing through the pages.

And there were a _lot_ of pages. Sheet after sheet, over half of the book was filled to the brim. And, as evidenced by the inscription on the inside of the cover, this was one of many others.

"...You truly want to save my father?" She finally asked, against her better judgement.

She wasn't sure what the ex-tactician's goals were. Looking over the plans he had slaved over, pages and pages of tactics, she was more unsure than ever.

The plans for escaping Regna Ferox were only the tip of the iceberg. There were numerous plans and entries on saving Chrom, saving Lissa, saving Frederick, ect. It seemed that he hadn't wasted his years spent in the future either.

"I do." He replied without hesitation as she flipped to a blank page.

"Then you and I might have a common cause after all." She accepted a thin piece of charcoal from him and laid the book out flat on the ground. "If we can work together, then just maybe we can succeed. I… don't know if I trust you. But if we want to save our friends, then it doesn't matter. You and I are the only ones that know what is happening, and if we don't coordinate we'll only get in each other's way."

"So you're finally giving me a chance?"

She frowned as she thought about the hordes of Risen troops just outside the walls of the arena. Chrom had finally settled on the plan initiating next Dusk, after the soldiers had gotten rest. As they were speaking, many were readying their equipment for sundown.

"I don't have much of a choice. Don't make me regret it."

 **O**

 **Wow! More drama!**

 **However, I've also added adventure, friendship, and… stuff. I think. And humor too. I think.**

 **I didn't find much of an opportunity to make jokes, as Robin put Robin in a coma, and she was the most Meta character of the cast.**

 **Could Robin make Meta jokes like Robin? Probably. I dunno.**

 **Are you confused yet?**

 **Speaking of which, let's see what Robin's up too!**

 **O**

Robin snored. Her face was peaceful, and her mouth had finally found a way to close without biting her own tongue off. She turned slightly in her sleep, marking the twelfth time she had turned in the night - well below her average.

For a moment, it looked as though she was about to wake up, get off her ass, and become a part of the plot again.

Hm.

No.

She simply turned over for the thirteenth time.

 **O**

 **Okay.**

 _ **Ciao!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter IX**

 **Hentai Tentacles… Come on. Really?**

 _ **They're called 'Vectors' god damnit!**_

 **O**

 _Burning._

 _The world was set aflame, lighting the gloomy night and highlighting the infinite clouds above with an entrancing glow. Flames licked at her face, even from the great distance that she watched the pyre blaze. It was both beautiful and horrifying as forests were consumed by the fiery wrath, leaving charred skeletal remains as silky ashes were carried off by the wind._

" _Are you scared?"_

 _The searing flames seemed to move with a mind of their own, blazing trails across the settlements of Ylisstol and twirling gracefully as each tail of heat ended abruptly until finally, a familiar six-eyed crest stared back at her - glaring as though it could see her._

" _N-no!" She stepped back, earth crunching underfoot as a chilling roar reverberated across the lands from far away, and flashes of purple lightning thundered past the horizon. "This isn't real… Where am I?"_

" _You're home. Turn and face me, and you'll understand everything."_

 _She shook her head. "I'm not going to do that. That sounds really ominous."_

 _There was a pause, and then a dry laugh."You think you can resist my will? That you're stronger than he was?"_

 _She wasn't sure who the mysterious voice was referring to, but she felt pretty good about her chances._

" _Then you're dreaming."_

" _Aw,"_

 **O**

Her eyes snapped open as quickly as they had rolled up into the back of her head, and the first thing she was aware of was that she had indeed become relevant to the plot again.

It was a rather gratifying sensation.

She shot up from wherever she had been laying down, her arms rocketing into the air as she prepared to let out a cheer, only to let out a graceless curse as her hand collided with the tough armor of-

" _Ow_ … Basilio?" Robin asked uncertainty, cradling her injured hand as the Khan examined the smudge of tactician on his armor. "Is that you?"

"Does it look like me, lass?" He guffawed, giving her an incredulous look with his remaining eye. "Or maybe you mistook me for Flavia over there?"

"Don't bother the girl, you oaf." A voice called from the other side of the cart that she had awoken in. Robin blinked the spots out of her eyes and realized that Flavia was also present, her steely armor gleaming in the light of the lanterns that dangled from the sides of the wooden carriage. "She just woke up."

"Where are we?" She wondered out loud, turning her gaze to the exterior of her sweet wheels.

All around, similar carts were being drawn by horses through the night as the flickering lanterns cast long shadows across the snowy brick road. The clop of hooves and the clank of armor echoed off of the walls of the surrounding buildings, and frightened men and women marched alongside Feroxi soldiers, bearing torches and bags that likely contained whatever they had managed to salvage from their homes. It was all she needed to see for her genius brain to realize the dire straits they appeared to be in.

Basilio's grin vanished, and she noticed his hands clench into fists as he looked away.

"We're evacuating."

 **O**

" _Have another!"_ Chrom growled, the blade of his Falchion glowing a brilliant blue as he kicked off of Vaike's unguarded shoulder, vaulting the larger man before finally driving his weapon home into the breastbone of the unsuspecting Risen Berserker. The creature in question let out a horrific scream as it tried to claw apart the prince's face before the aforementioned clawed hand degraded into a sulfuric purple mist along with the rest of the once walking dead.

Vaike looked indignantly at the blue haired swordsman, his axe hanging at his side with his weapon arm as he scratched his head with the other. "Serious? C'mon Chrom! Teach had that!"

"You were open," Chrom replied calmly, flicking his blade to dislodge the ashy remains that had begun to cling to the legendary sword from the mist. "It wouldn't do to have you fall here, Vaike."

"But now you're three kills ahead o' me!" He complained, clearly not giving the slightest thought to which Risen he might have added to the kill count of had Chrom not intervened. "The Vaike never settles for second best, but it's tough when there's a _kill stealer_ lurking!"

Chrom stared at the man. Was that truly what this was about?

"If I may!"

Suddenly, a screeching noise sounded out from the left of the prince, and both men leapt back as a Risen Thief freshly mounted on the end of a lance was driven past them, before being launched onto his back and turned into gross party smoke. Meanwhile, drifting to a halt between the two, Frederick the Wary kicked up a puff of snow as his horse let out a triumphant neigh. _"Another scrub down, boss!"_

"Gods," Chrom managed, realizing how close he had come to being taken down by a small knife. "Thank you, Frederick."

"None shall harm you, nor your ego," He replied, diligent as ever as he twirled his lance. "Milord is actually _four_ kills ahead of you, Vaike."

"Aw man! Really?!"

"You too?!"

"I have been watching his every move since the battle begun, and you failed to see him accidentally knock a crate onto an unengaged Knight. The weight of his armor spoke nothing of it's stability, and combined with the heavy produce crate he was killed instantly!" Frederick explained, nodding. "As expected of his majesty!"

"That sounds awesome!" Vaike gasped, hoisting his axe over his shoulder. "Teach's gonna have to actually start tryin' if he wants to top that!"

Chrom shook his head in defeat, turning to survey the battlefield instead of actively participating in The Vaike's madness. All around, Shepherds were doing battle as they fought and shouted as loud as they possibly could. Shaky lanterns cast deep shadows that were in constant motion, not unlike the shadow plays that he had seen in Ylisstol when he was younger. The Shepherds had been divided into two teams, each supported by what Etzel had referred to as a 'Crutch' unit. Frederick as theirs, apparently. A few grumbles about 'Luna' had been all that was offered in explanation, so ultimately it remained a mystery. Alongside himself, Crutch Unit Frederick, and Vaike, was Virion, who had taken it upon himself to scale a nearby building and use his bow from there.

Meanwhile, on the west side of the city, Sully, Stahl, Lissa, _Honorary_ Crutch Unit Lon'qu (Dubbed as such simply due to his sheer levels of " _Badassitude_ "), and Miriel were battling perhaps even louder than their eastern counterparts. Even from where he was in the large market street, wrapped in a shroud of combat noises, the prince could still make out the sounds of explosive fire magic, constant cursing ( _Damn! Damn! Damn! Son of a Griffon! Damn!_ ) and of course Stahl complaining of being hungry.

Above, Sumia circled the war zone on her Pegasus, relaying information between the two groups and the evacuating noncombatants.

All the same, despite the plan's style and flair, Chrom couldn't ignore the bad feeling he was getting. Marth and Etzel were meant to scout ahead and draw Risen forces off of the path the convoy of Feroxi Guard and civilians were to take, but Sumia had long since reported that she had lost track of the two mystery-wrapped, noir-sprinkled enigmas.

 _Perhaps they deserted the city?_

He had thought of it himself, even as the ever wary Frederick proposed the idea.

But he was sure that that wasn't the case.

He wasn't sure _why,_ but them abandoning their cause seemed like an impossible concept - absolutely inconceivable to the prince. When he had first met them, he had automatically trusted them despite only having known them for less than three hours. But oh no, it hadn't been out of foolish naivete, for Chrom was a _wise_ man. No - it was as though an invisible bond had always existed - something that strung their fates together the moment they had come into existence. An inexplicable connection. Perhaps, if one had the opportunity to utilize a thesaurus, such a bond could even, just maybe, be described as 'Invisible Ties'.

However strong the feeling was, he was loathe to mention it to the others. Something that even he couldn't explain to himself would be nigh impossible to explain to others, and if anything all he would accomplish would be rousing Frederick's interest and earning them an all-expense paid trip to the interrogation chambers in Ylisstol. He doubted that would be a relaxing vacation; what with Frederick using an enhanced version of Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour to keep their muscles from not only wearing away, but to crush morale and keep them too sore to attempt escape.

It was, at best, a technique of _questionable_ ethnicity. The Ylissean Special, as the jailers had dubbed it.

It was rather unsurprising that Ylisstol held one of the lowest crime rates on this side of the world. The threat of physical education was an ever-present hazard looming in the life of a would-be criminal.

"Oi Chrom!" He was snapped out of his thoughts as Vaike slid to a stop in front of him, deflecting the tip of a lance off of the face of his axe before charging forwards in a devastating body-slam that left the lance man reeling as his weapon went skidding across the street. He hadn't recovered before Vaike brought an end to the skirmish with his weapon. "Keep your head in the fight! Ya can't die before the Vaike beats you in a spar!"

"Right. I'm glad I've got such dedicated allies." He joked, bringing his sword up as he prepared to engage the enemy once more. "But, please…"

"Eh?"

"Stop speaking in third person," Chrom pleaded, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow before it could freeze to his face. "It creeps everyone around you out."

"Aw, come on! I thought it added to my charm!"

 **O**

"Come on!" Lucina shouted, lunging forwards and bashing a Risen swordsman across his exposed and frankly rotting temple, before following the assault up with a backhanded slash that sent him spinning to the right and face-down into the snow.

Meanwhile, Robin appeared to be moving with much less gusto and fluidity as he jogged after her, clearly struggling to match her pace as his heavy boots and coat worked in unison to impede his progress. Any time an enemy came within range, he didn't waste breath on a spell and instead bashed them in the face with his Elthunder Tome. "I'm moving as fast as I can! Must… purchase… Boots…"

Ahead, more undead stragglers were roaming the razed streets aimlessly, completely in harmony with their surroundings - until Lucina cut through them faster than they could say " _I wasn't harming nobody!_ ". Any that she didn't fell were left moving to get the hell out of the way of the wheezing ex-tactician, whose gasping seemed to resonate with them like a fearsome war cry so terrifying that it rivaled his weapon of choice. It was fortunate that none seemed to possess a bow, as if they fired at him he would likely swallow the arrow and suffer internal bleeding.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that instead of moving East as the Shepherds had planned, the mindless hordes of decomposing warriors were now doing their best to chase after the graceful masked swordsman and the seemingly dying hooded tome-wielder as they sprinted northwest. He had to admit that it was a pleasant surprise for a plan to actually be working for once.

Except for the whole being at risk of dropping on the spot thing. That wasn't fun.

 _It's the heavy boots and coat._ He told himself. _It's the heavy boots and coat. You're beautiful._

"Every second wasted is a risk taken, Etzel," She replied, not slowing her sprint at all as she cut open a lance wielder in a defiant act against the weapon triangle. "You of all people should know that. I'd rather no more lives were lost this night."

"I will be amongst the casualties if you don't slow down!"

Suddenly, his wish was granted and Lucina slid to a halt. Her boots flattened the snow underfoot, and a spray of frost exploded upwards as her mach twenty pace came to an abrupt stop. Robin, who had honestly not been expecting any form of respite, ran directly into her and almost dropped his tome into the silvery sea.

"Gods…" He gasped after a moment, having regained enough breath to speak. "I wish I didn't have so much stuff to carry around… That's the reason, by the way… all the stuff. I have the endurance of a lion on adrenaline when I sprint in the buff. But running around naked is frowned upon, so I-... Marth?" He stood up somewhat straighter, having reaquired enough dignity to exit his hunchbacked state. "Hello?"

" _Move!"_

He was about to complain about the unfairness of tormenting him with a ten-second break when she spun around and tackled him. Instead, all the ex-tactician managed to get out was a sputter as her momentum carried them both backwards, sending them both tumbling through the snow. Not even a second later, the smell of ozone invaded his nostrils as a blinding bolt of lightning tore the spot they had been previously standing in into a rain of stone shards and icy chunks with a ferocious roar.

" _Holy shit!"_ He shouted, unable to hear himself as they both scrambled to their feet, garments now dusted in a fine layer of snow. The explosion had been so deafening that he couldn't even hear the rolling thunder that accompanied the spectacle over the ringing in his own ears. _"That was awesome! I want one!"_

" _What?!"_ She shouted back, adjusting her mask. _"If that was as foolish a statement as I thought it was, I won't save you again!"_

" _What?!"_

The previously clear night air had drastically changed in a split second, and now was an obscuring storm of dust and steam that poured across the battlefield like a sentient mist. Even the surrounding Risen had realized that shit was about to hit the fan, and now seemed content with watching from what they likely considered a safe distance.

If either of our two time-traveling heroes had been paying any more attention to them than ensuring they were a decent ways away, they might have noticed several small bullion switching hands as the undead placed bets on god knows what - for Risen do not speak english very well, and even sadistic omnipotent assholes couldn't for the life of themselves decipher patternless grunts. However, for the most part, they could roughly be translated to something along the lines of _"They're fucked."_ and _"Oh yea {sic}"_

" _What the hell was that?!"_ Robin tried again, his Levin sword dangling from his belt as he tossed his Elthunder tome aside and delved back into the seemingly infinite depths of his coat. He had concluded that he was going to need a bigger spell book.

" _What?!"_

" _What?!"_ He asked, mistaking her question for an unheard answer.

" _I believe I may have permanent hearing damage!"_ She lamented, using her free hand to massage her left ear.

" _Huh?!"_

" _I said-"_

"Cut it out!"

Suddenly, an enchanted gust of wind swept across the street, clearing the air as quickly as it had been clouded and sending swirls of snow every which way. Only Lucina's fast reflexes saved her from being clocked by Robin's discarded Elthunder tome as it too was carried down the road by the breeze, likely to be left on an event tile.

"Did you two get dumber since I last saw you?"

Down the street, standing just behind the crater that had been created by the badass strike of lightning that had inflicted tinnitus upon our heroes, a lone figure stood with an Arcwind tome held lazily in one hand.

" _What?!"_ Robin demanded again after a moment. " _I can't hear anything; because you almost blasted me with your giant lightning bolt!"_

The figure let out a sigh, her darkly colored cloak swirling in the breeze as she tossed the wind tome aside. Lucina, meanwhile, was now in a combat stance, her blade's tip angled towards the enemy despite her lack of a tipper. "Yeah, whatever. I'll admit - I'm impressed you've made it this far! You were both supposed to be killed along with the Shepherds by the massive army of Risen." She nodded to herself, the hood that masked her features seemingly unaffected by the breeze as it held fast over her upper face. "So kudos to you."

"Then it was you who created this siege," Lucina observed, her hearing apparently having returned to her as Robin continued to slap the side of his head, hoping to dislodge whatever was keeping his own at bay. "You are the one responsible for the hundreds of lives lost since last night. You are another mindless monster, and I will end you before you see so much as another drop of blood that isn't your own!"

" _What?!"_ Robin screamed, looking between the two. _"Who's the sassy lady?!"_

"Ah, just as clever a tongue as your father's." The hooded woman remarked, chuckling. In her hand, a long and thin blade of almost pitch black metal had materialized. Even from the distance, Lucina could smell the unsightly weapon's sulfuric odor and see the thin vectors of dark magic that danced along the gracefully curved edges of the sword. "He had just as bad a habit of making threats he couldn't follow through with, you know. I guess eugenics aren't perfect! Huh..."

"You know of my father…?" She said, unable to stop herself in time. "Then you mustn't be any ordinary pawn of the Fell Dragon. Knowledge such as that is something that even It rarely grants Its pieces."

"Oh!" She laughed. "You still think I'm just another piece on this board, don't you? That's awesome! I thought your almighty tactician would that thought to share that information with you. Guess even I can be wrong sometimes."

The princess flinched, before looking over at Robin.

He looked back at her, uncomprehending.

" _What?! Did I do something wrong?! Is my fly undone?!_ " He asked after a long and awkward pause, glancing between her and the hooded figure. _"Are my shoes untied?! Who is that?! What the hell did you do to my ears?!"_

"I suppose it doesn't matter anymore," The figure lamented, shrugging as she hopped over the crater and began a slow stroll towards the two. "I'm sorry to say, but your crusade ends here, 'Marth'. Not even Naga's chosen can stop my march. I am a darkness stronger than any light, a blade of the night that will slaughter the day. I am the hand of the Fell Dragon, and I will choke the hope out of you!" She paused for a second. "Metaphorically. I'll probably just stab you or something."

"I realized it was a metaphor," Lucina said, her eye twitching and her sword completely level as she spoke despite herself. "In saying that, you have tarnished your quip. Your last words have been wasted!"

In the blink of an eye, she closed the distance between herself and the hooded swordswoman with her blade poised to pierce her opponent's heart, a mighty battle cry tearing past her lips.

" _Lucina! Wait!"_

The Parallel Falchion, which had been glowing with the mystical hue it often took in combat, suddenly flashed an alarming red as it collided with its target's own weapon. Lucina only had a moment to ponder if charging dick-first at an unknown target was truly a wise idea before the legendary sword was ripped from her hands in a shower of blue and purple sparks and she was lifted into the air by a crushing grip around her torso.

"Ngh!" She bit back a shout, wincing as the sound of her shoulder armor crunching like paper met her ears. " _What-?!"_

Standing up straight on the ground a few feet below the princess, the hooded woman's sword was hoisted vertically and the tip was directed skywards, like a beacon of sorts. Extending from the weapon like wings, the dark tendrils that had previously danced across the blade's edge had reached out and wrapped around our strong-female-lead, not unlike claws. Very hentai-reminiscent claws…

" _You must be joking…!"_ Robin shouted in shock from below, staring up at her in horror. She was too busy being crushed by tentacles to make a retort. " _Why does all dark magic lead to tentacle porn?!"_

" _Doesn't- matter-"_ Lucina choked out, her fingers wrapped around the vectors that had ensnared her in a vain attempt to loosen their grip. _"Falchion- now-!_

"Gods damn it all." Robin hissed, squinting at her. He quickly abandoned the task, shaking his head and dashing in the direction the Parallel Falchion had flown off in. "It's like watching anime without subtitles! I'm just going to retrieve your sword!"

" _Hurry!"_ She gasped, glaring at the swordswoman below.

 **O**

"Evacuated?" Robin wondered, her eyes and voice not nearly as sharp as she would have preferred them to be. She had the feeling that she still looked sleepy, and that was simply not menacing at all. "Then why am I here? I need to be helping my allies, not hiding among the women and children!"

"I don't like it any more than you do, Lass." Basilio groaned, as though he had been waiting ages for the chance to complain about their current situation. "But apparently, my _people_ need me. I thought I ruled over _warriors_ , not a bunch of _sissies_!"

"That doesn't answer my question," She said, defiant as she tried to get to her feet.

This proved to be a simply awful idea, and she soon found herself almost toppling overboard as her vision swam.

"Oh, nevermind. I'm gonna puke!"

Basilio laughed as Flavia snorted in amusement. "Better out than in, as I always say! You might have Feroxi blood in you yet."

"You're as hard headed as the oaf." Flavia agreed, apparently lacking any other name or noun for the ruling Khan. "Stay down. You are in no shape to move about when you can't tell a bucket from a helmet."

Robin dropped the helmet that she had picked up, thankful that she hadn't in fact needed to puke. "What happened to me? I don't remember anything relevant to the plot… It feels like I just got hit by an amnesia stick."

"Amnesia stick?" Flavia inquired.

"Ugh…" Robin groaned, rubbing the back of her head. "It's just a really, really big stick. It uses science to make people forget things. Now can someone please get me a bucket before I fill this cart with my disowned supper?"

Basilio gave an unimpressed grunt, using his foot to kick a bucket over to her before leaning back against his side of the cart. "In Feroxi, we projectile-vomit at our enemies!"

"Duly noted," She huffed, before ralphing all over the Khan and missing the bucket entirely.

 **O**

"Hey!"

Robin's heroic sprint was cut tragically short as a loud woosh tore through the air behind him, and he immediately clenched his rear out of reflex as he prepared for the worst, stopping moving entirely as to avoid spreading his legs any more than required for standing.

"Catch!"

Unfortunately, his amnesia kept him from remembering if he even had played catch as a kid. However, based on how the last rendezvous with his father had ended, he assumed it was safe to say that he had never caught anything larger than a cold in his entire life.

He clenched harder.

Suddenly, a great and masculine weight slammed into his back, and for a brief second, he wondered if the tentacle-wielding hood had thrown Gregor at him, before becoming aware of the fact that that was, in itself, yet another breach of the fourth wall. The next second was spent wondering if his back had been shattered on impact, and all seconds that followed were filled with pain.

" _Gah!"_ He shouted as Lucina crashed into him like a projectile weapon fired from a Gundam Robot, sending them both back to square one - face down in the snow.

The hooded woman in the distance laughed.

"Did…" Lucina gasped, her face returning to its usual hue as air refilled her lungs and she picked herself out of the snow. "...you get…" She tried to stand, before settling with taking a knee for the time being. "...the sword?"

"Does it look…" Robin groaned, pausing between words as though to mock her. Much to her displeasure, he made no move to rise as she did. "...Like I got the sword?"

"Then we must retrieve it." She reaffirmed, wiping the snow from the slits in her mask before replacing it on her face. "Without it, I am weaponless."

"Right." He grunted, pushing himself up. "But first, we need a plan; unless we _want_ to go round two with the hentai monster." He reached down to his belt and unhooked the jagged sword that hung from it before tossing it to the time traveling swordswoman. "We need to get the Parallel Falchion back and then move past her. The tower isn't far now, and we have little time to waste."

"I realize that." She replied, catching the sword easily before inspecting the blade's edge. "But the problem lies in getting my sword back."

"We could always try the force," He suggested, his brain working double-time in an attempt to figure out a legitimate way to retrieve the legendary blade of legend. "Just stick your hand out and call it to you."

"Now is not the time for jokes, Robin." She said, also looking to be deep in thought as the mysterious hooded woman drew ever closer, the tip of her blade scraping across the snow as the dark vectors writhed impatiently. "The clock is working against us."

He sighed. It seemed there was never a time for jokes when it came to the cerulean haired princess of Ylisse. But, to be fair, this was indeed no time for jokes. His stalling hadn't done his think-tank much good, and their foe was now only a few meters away. In fact, she was so close that he predicted that she would begin trash talking at any moment.

"Is this really the strength of the man and woman I once looked up to?" The swordswoman called out mockingly, twirling her sword with ease as the dark tendrils coiled around the blade before uncoiling once more. "Maybe I just had _painfully_ low standards. All I see is a failure of a hero and a failure of a villain."

"I take offence to that!" Robin shouted across the distance in reply. "I'd like to bring to light my near-perfect conniving skills. I have a mean plotting look."

"So you intend to die as you lived," She mused in return, raising the sword skyward again with a hand as the tentacles of shadow again exploded from the wavy edge of the sword and began creeping across the snow towards our heroes, seemingly eager for battle as they quivered with the barest hints of restraint keeping their pounce at bay. "hiding behind your 'razor sharp wit'?"

"She has a point you know," Lucina remarked, casting a glance towards the magician.

"And now you choose to grow a sense of humor?"

"Enough." The hooded magician snapped, her word final as she drew a darkly colored tome from the depths of her coat. "If this is the deathbed of your choice, then I'll lay you to rest and this city to waste!"

"I hate snappy one-liners…" He muttered to himself as the shadows suddenly jumped to life, speeding towards them from dead ahead. "Lucina, go for the sword!"

She gave a quick nod of acknowledgement before diving to the right as the air was swiftly sheared apart by the vector-like nightmares in a second. Meanwhile, Robin had barely thrown himself aside with much less fluidity and a startled grunt before his tumble ended and he scrambled to his feet.

"Why must everything you do be M-Rated fanfiction material?!" He demanded as he quickly pulled an Arcfire tome from one of his many coat pockets and wasted no time in tearing it open. " _Arcfire!"_

" _Waste,"_ She countered, her voice steady as wisps of purple energy swirled through the air from the book itself, only to be met with a cone of flames that darkened upon contact. The roar of the blazing magic-flamethrower meeting magic-multitool was deafening as snow around the battle of wills melted instantly under the overwhelming heat. Robin was soon forced a step backwards as his fire was smothered by the dark like a candle deprived of oxygen, and a grim look quickly found its way onto his face. The caster could certainly back up her talk, even if she was a complete braggart about it. Her power tripping was actually that much more annoying upon the realization of this detail.

And then there was the hentai-cles closing in on his right. They were already swirling menacingly, but ultimately lethargically as they neared the helpless ex-tactician. If he dropped his spell, he would be painfully ripped apart by the Waste spell.

"Gah," He hissed under his breath, shifting his stance and tossing his book into the air where it stayed suspended. Using his now free hand, he allowed the magic of the tome to seep through his arm and out his fingertips where flames appeared, searing white hot and growing milder the further away they fell from him. With his other hand, he flicked back the sleeve and pushed the limb flat outwards to the creeping tendrils. "I'm definitely washing my hands after this… _protect me, Righty!_ "

Whether it was the desperation in his tone or the quick mumble he gave afterwards, unheard by anyone but himself, the pouncing tendrils of evil were abruptly stopped in their tracks as they slammed into an unseen barrier, casting purple ripples through the air like water as six magenta eyes flitted opened from nothing.

"Well how about that," A voice mused from beyond the fires, obviously amused. "The Fell Blood Prince!" He didn't have the strength to accuse her of plagiarism, his breath coming out in quick gasps as he warded off the powerful assaults from both sides. Lacking in quips was a sure fire sign that he was in _deep_. "Looks like despite your high and mighty morales, even you aren't against reaping the benefits of our blood. Where did all the _good_ heroes go?"

"I'm not the hero of this story…" He finally called out through gritted teeth, his concentration absolute as he pushed the invisible barrier away from himself and forced the tendrils backwards. "... _She's_ got that honour! Say hello!"

Suddenly, a streak of luminous blue sliced the air silently, and the warped shadows of tendrils dissipated into wisps of jet-black smoke. The previously malicious stumps were left flailing helplessly as Lucina's back straightened from her stance, Parallel Falchion glowing mightily like a beacon of light amidst the rapidly thinning shady haze.

The dark magician, recognizing the danger of remaining within twenty feet of the frankly pissed time traveler, was quick to leap backwards and leave Robin hunched over and panting as her magic withered and vanished without a source of power to feed it. Immediately after, the ex-tactician's own, now weak flames sputtered and died in response to the lack of necessity to persist in their duties. The end result was ultimately underwhelming as both parties, separated by the newly formed miniature ocean, were left breathing heavily and eyeing one another warily.

"This is going nowhere," Robin eventually complained after catching his breath, though quietly enough as to only be heard by Lucina. "She doesn't seem worn down in the slightest."

"I would assume a few slashes from the Parallel Falchion would amend that mistake," Lucina replied, her knuckles white as she raised the weapon for emphasis. "Though perhaps it would do a tad more than 'wear her down'."

"No," He shook his head adamantly, throwing his now smouldering Arcfire tome into the snow and stomping on it with the heel of his boot. "Our goal is beyond her. We cannot waste any more time with this engagement."

"She will not allow us to pass,"

"Which is why we aren't asking for permission," He said, holding out his hand. After a brief second, the familiar grip of the Levin Sword found its way into his grasp as his ally passed it to him from her belt. "I will provide a distraction, while you are to run ahead to the bell tower."

" _You_ will provide the distraction?" Her tone was one of disbelief as she gave him a once over. From his slumped posture to the seared sleeves of his robes, he looked like he was about to drop on the spot. "I'm not sure you're in any state to fight alone. Perhaps I would be better suited to the task?"

" _Hah_!" He breathed a laugh, shaking his head as he dug a hand into his coat. After a moment, he withdrew an old leather-bound book from his pocket and shoved it into her arms. "Have you seen me run? One of us has to reach the tower, and I'm not getting far like this. I can hold her off long enough for you to complete the next phase of the plan."

She tried to find a weak point in his reasoning, and was dismayed to find none. The disadvantages to arguing with a master tactician were that they almost always won, they swiftly made their points, and if they spoke first you lose the argument by default.

However, she was nonetheless intrigued by the attempted confident grin he shot her as well as the weathered tome he had given her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he _totally_ thought he was going to die.

Despite their long and varied history together, she felt something akin to comradeship with the snow-haired man. Reaching a hand out before she could stop herself, she placed it on his shoulder, causing him to look at her with a curious look.

This was the extent of her warmth.

"Try not to die." She offered.

In return, he gave her a much more believable smile and shook his head. "I'm so glad you're here to comfort me,"

"Don't push your luck," The princess ordered. Sheathing her sword and stashing the book in her satchel, she quickly signaled to him that she was ready to begin running for her friends. He wisely refrained from quipping 'I run for my friends!'.

"Ready…?" He muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

She glanced from the stationary mage, who was watching them from a distance, and nodded.

Flipping the newly equipped tome open, he took a deep breath as his eyes scanned across the pages. It was a familiar spell, and he was pleased by the fact that it would serve the intended purpose _perfectly_. The cover alone brought back warm memories of using it to convince Lissa that a tornado was passing over camp, and accidentally carrying her tent away in the process.

"On my mark," He said, exhaling. Slowly he lifted a hand upwards, and it wasn't long before the snow and ice in front of him began to stir in a mystical wind. Even faster it spun, until finally a raging whirlwind of snow and ice was tearing across the field towards a mildly amused dark magician swordswoman person. Robin didn't know what to call her anymore, but he knew he had stopped caring at some point or another.

" _Arcwind!"_

Lucina moved instantly, using the cover of the snowstorm to dart downfield at the speed of Marth. Each step was swift as the wind, and then the narrator ran out of ideas to make a running scene dramatic, thus leading to the awkward and totally unexpected, and honestly off putting en-

 **O**

 **Well… it looks like this wasn't as long as I expected. Aw man. How sad.**

 **It's almost like this entire sentence, beginning, middle, and end, is merely here to further add to the already impressive wordcount. But why would I try such a thing, when the chapter is over. It's a mystery. It's almost like-**

 **O**

 **Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter IX.V**

 **We're Not Done Yet!**

 _ **It feels like I already used this joke.**_

 **O**

"It would seem we've found ourselves in quite a predicament," Virion the Archest of Archers observed, a grimace on his face despite his calm tone as he notched another arrow. "Mayhaps, just maybe, this was not the _wisest_ course of action? Hm?"

"No need to tell _me_ that," Chrom replied, wincing as he gritted his teeth. He had long since given up on attempting to keep his sword clean, leaving it stained an ugly black from the leftovers of the Risen that had fallen to it, and several scrapes from the numerous scraps he had found himself in had yet to be bandaged as he leaned against Frederick's horse. "Maybe if Robin hadn't passed out, we would have had a legitimate _tactician_ to listen to. As it stands…"

"We could be doing better." Frederick finished, eyeing the crowds of undead that had poured into the street and surrounded them. "Well put, milord… well put."

Like creatures working off of their primal instincts, the monsters seemed to sense that the hunt was coming it it's close, and now the countless numbers stalked around the edges of the crew, their glowing eyes leaving trails of light as their heads twitched neurotically. Any that drew too near to the four found themselves cut to ribbons, but it would only take one final push for their defenses to crumble.

And then? Then they would be dinner.

If the prince gritted his teeth any harder, they would likely shatter under the pressure of his masculine, Marth-tier jawline. His sister was with the others, and if he were a betting man, which he would never admit to being, then he would wager that they were faring no better than they. It was only a matter of time before he had blood on his hands for allowing her to take part in what now seemed to be a borderline suicidal plan.

He wanted her to learn what it meant to be a Shepherd, but not by the greatest price that they could pay…

"'Ey Chrom!" Vaike suddenly piped up, lowering his axe for a brief second and pointing northwards. "You seein' that?"

"Not now, Vaike," Chrom said without looking, keeping his gaze locked on the surrounding hostile zombie freaks that wanted to tear their faces off. "Stay focused,"

"Why," Suddenly in a lapse of his straight-man role, Frederick let out a shocked gasp and pointed northwards, a sense of urgency to his tone. "Milord! Look!"

"Huh?" Chrom looked away from the Risen, peering off in the direction of the poised finger. "What is it, Frederick?"

"Aw, _c'mon!_ Really?!"

Off to the north, over the buildings that separated them from Arena Ferox, a majestic and almost surreal sight greeted them through the falling snow. Lightning the night like a lighthouse, flames licked the top of the old bell tower that sat on the far side of the city, visible even from where they were.

All around it, ash treaded the sky and drifted down alongside the snowflakes like a secondary weather condition. Smoke poured upwards in contrast to the ash falling down, reaching for the stars in droves of black and grey swirls and clouds.

"I don't…" Chrom began, confused. Before he could finish the thought, even the Risen seemed to have noticed the anomaly as several murmurs ran through the crowds around them in the form of grunts, which could roughly be translated to something along these lines.

" _Holy shit, you see that?"_

" _Yeah man, some crazy shit. Bet it was that blue haired chick and the dude with the asthma."_

" _Did he have asthma? I thought he was just lazy…"_

" _We gotta go set some of that!"_

" _Fire! Fire Bad!"_

" _There's shit over there! Fire! Get some!"_

" _Alright you shits, go go go! Towards the light!"_

"... I don't…" Chrom said again, watching as the less than intelligent undead zombie things that wanted to tear their faces off turned and began to disperse, even as the steel bell began to ring at deafening volumes that likely could be heard in Valm. "I don't believe it."

One by one, each Risen soldier scrambled out of sight, giving moans and groans as they frantically made for the northern side of the city, armor and weapons clanking.

"They're retreating, milord!" Frederick reported despite the fact that the prince could clearly see it for himself. Soon enough, the only thing left was trampled snow and empty husks of armor from deceased troops.

"Yeah!" Vaike laughed, pounding his chest with a fist. "See that, Chrom? Look at 'em run!"

"I see it, Vaike," Chrom said shortly, baffled by the axe-wielder's need to state the obvious. "As do we all."

"Seriously?!"

The first thing the prince did as they went was slump backwards against Frederick's horse, his legs giving out under him as he was hit with just how exhausted he truly was. As the others did the same, Frederick all too soon found himself uncomfortable as bodies that weren't his liege took it upon themselves to use his horse as a Lay-Z recliner.

"It only leaves me to wonder," Virion said, eyebrows furrowed as his orbs scanned the now all but empty street. "Who lit the fire?"

"It doesn't matter," Chrom breathed a moment later, rising back to his feet with newfound energy. "We have no time to be wasted here. Fire the retreat signal, and we will fall back to the convoy immediately!"

"Of course," Virion replied as the others also returned to a standing position before drawing an arrow out of his quiver.

 **O**

Lucina was silent from her position on the rooftop, her wounds bandaged in cloth from her cape and her shoulder armor outright discarded. A decent ways away, the burning tower finally seemed to give out as it collapsed with a distant crash, the gong of the bell ringing out for one final time as it disappeared from sight behind a building.

Suddenly, a much less magnificent sparkle lit in the distance as one of Virion's arrows blazed to life, barely visible even from her position on the roof.

 _The signal for retreat._ She blinked, surprised at the amount of ease this put her mind at as she watched it fizzle out. _Good._

"I hate… climbing…"

She spun, her blade drawn in the time it would take one to blink, and less than a second later the point was directly beneath a certain ex-tactician's pale jaw, poking slightly at his throat. It took her mind a moment to register the lack of immediate danger, and only when he raised his arms in surrender did the blade slightly dip.

"Robin?" She managed, surprised. The man looked only slightly worse for wear, with a scratch on his cheek and a tear in his robe. "You're alive."

"I'm glad you're safe to," he replied, smirking as he gently pushed the sword away from him and to the side. "Though I did think we were past the whole 'threatening me with your sword' thing."

She sighed to herself, sheathing the weapon once more and returning to her seated position on the rough wooden planks of the Feroxi building's roof. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. It didn't take a genius to tell that nothing was something, though she refrained from asking due to the shake in his voice. "She roughed me up a bit and then ran away. I guess I was too scary."

"Of course." She nodded, pretending to play along. For a moment, she was surprised by her own response. A couple hours ago, she would have demanded to know what he was thinking, but now she was simply… waiting. Waiting for him to tell her himself.

For the briefest moment, she wondered what it took to truly sever a bond.

"This is only the beginning, you know." He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he plopped down next to her. "Regna Ferox was a trivial task the first go around. Now it's similar to Lunatic mode."

"I know." She nodded. "You helped save many lives today, Robin. I believe that working together, this time will be different."

"We're stronger," He agreed, rubbing his wrist. "But are we strong enough?"

"That depends," She remarked casually, glancing at his hand. "How many times can you do that trick?"

"Right…" He chuckled. "Guess I had better make with the explaining, huh?"

She nodded again.

"See, it all began when I was born. I only figured it out after things went to the hounds…"

 **O**

 **Seven thousand and a half words.**

 **A kind of weak ending. What did Robin learn?! I'm sure you've got that much figured out, because I over-foreshadowed.**

 **This felt like writing an end to the goddamn story, really. I intended for it to come before a break, but surprise, it came after. How bout that?**

 **This felt like a bit climatic for a midway point, but I felt the need to highlight how fucked shit is with this new timeline. Grima's on steroids, people.**

 **Anyways, I'm out. I spent two whole fucking months writing and rewriting this chapter, now it's time to get on with the next bit. Fortunately, now I get to go back to simpler, less climatic dramatic writing.**

 **I apologize for the delay, as well as this chapter in general. I'm looking at it like "Hey, that's alright." But later I'll probably look at it and be like "How could I upload this?!"**

 **I don't do well with these huge climatic scenes...**

 **-Veymorak**


	10. Chapter 10

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter X**

 **Frosted Over Reflections**

 _ **Mirror mirror, on the wall...**_

 **O**

 **C** hrom sat silently in the cart, his legs feeling almost like jelly after the long trek from Regna Ferox.

It had been a massive journey through and through, what with the hundreds of people that moved with them. They had broken camp every night, and there wasn't a moment where his ears weren't open and eyes weren't alert as he watched shadows pass over the inside of his tent - soldiers marching between encampments and the rough Feroxi tents.

The clank of steel boots crushing snow hadn't been what kept him awake, however.

It was the feeling of failure.

He had gone to Ferox to form an alliance and quell the rising danger of the dangerous Risen, and instead he was returning home empty handed, with the northern capital in ruins. He had heard stifled gasps from all around as the civilians that made up most of the convoy looked over their shoulders and through the blizzard-ravaged dawn to see pillars of thick black smoke rising over the horizon.

He unconsciously clenched his fists as the massive spires of the Ylissean palace came into sight, reigning high over the proud city of the south like a wise sentinel. On either side of the massive convoy, Ylissean guards marched and swapped stories with those from the north, constantly coming and going as they relayed information to one another.

There was no doubt that word of the tragedy had already reached his sister, and he could already imagine her watching their approach from one of the balconies of the palace, an unreadable expression on her face as Phila delivered a steady stream of reports.

"You'd do well to stop making that face, Chrom," A familiar voice suggested, and he looked back up to see Robin looking at him over her book from the front of the cart. She smiled weakly. "You're scaring the women and children. And also probably the men."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Robin," he said, sounding tired without question. Dark bags hung from under his eyes, courtesy of his near-sleepless journey, and his hair was all sorts of messed up.

"Perhaps you should take a nap?" she wondered, closing the book and setting it on her lap. "You look like an emo-corpse."

"I'll sleep when we reach the palace," he replied, shaking his head and nodding towards a nearby guard, who was chatting animatedly with one of the Feroxi refugees. "Emm wants to see me and Lissa first. I need to give a report on Ferox."

Robin hesitated, a significantly more serious line where her poor smile had been previously. "You did your best, Chrom. We can't save everyone - sometimes even when we can see them, they're just out of reach." She gestured around them with a wave of her hand. "And when you look at how many walk with us, you get the idea that you've still got pretty goddamn long arms for a ragtag group of friends."

Chrom sighed, but nodded all the same. It was honestly a miracle that so many had lived. "But now where do they go? How many more will suffer because of our error? Without the men we need from Ferox-"

"The men that survived the siege will help if they can fight," she said firmly, referencing to what she had been told about the Northern peoples. "I wouldn't be wrong in assuming that they aren't going to be happy about this transgression against their nation. If anything, they've got more of a reason to fight than ever."

"You're right," he admitted, knowing that she was. If the Risen thought Ferox would fall because of the destruction of their capital, they didn't know much about their opponent. Hitting back is a specialty of theirs, after all. "Then… No. You're right," he gave a small grin. He had been stressing over it for almost the entire week, and it felt good to be lighter on his feet. "Thanks. That truly does help."

"I'm pretty great," Robin nodded, causing him to snort. "But I still don't really understand what happened at Ferox, so I can't be _too_ great."

"Which part?" he asked, leaning back against his own side of the cart. In reality, he really did know what she meant, but still felt the need to clarify. The tactician still seemed overly suspicious about the whole ordeal, and it had gotten to the point where he wondered if something more had happened than just passing out.

"When I passed out," she deadpanned, looking at him in disappointment. "You really do like hearing me say that out loud, don't you?"

"It brings you down a peg."

"Knock over the whole post, why don't you? Anyways, ever since I woke up, I've felt like something's been… missing." she seemed to be careful with her phrasing, as though she were trying to find a certain way to word the feeling. "Bits and pieces seem to be out of place again - like a puzzle that doesn't quite look right. You know?"

"With your memories?" Chrom said, suddenly becoming more interested in the discussion as he leaned forwards. "Perhaps we should have Miriel take a look at you later…"

"I'd rather she didn't," Robin quickly replied, shaking her head firmly, "I prefer my head on my shoulders instead of in a jar, thank you very much." She blinked. "No offence to Miriel."

"How was that not offensive?" Chrom wondered, almost baffled, before shrugging. "Very well. I'll look into having a proper healer examine you. I don't know much about this sort of thing myself, but I don't doubt that _someone_ must."

"I'd hope so," she said, picking her book off of the floor of the cart and cracking it open again - evidently without even having used a bookmark to keep her place. "If this amnesia deal repeats itself, I'm going to have to start keeping a journal or something." She gave an amused smile. "A 'Wake Journal'."

Chrom groaned at the sad excuse for a pun. "Right. I suppose it's worth mentioning; Marth was rather suspicious in regards to your sudden loss of consciousness."

"Marth?" Robin paused, looking over her book again. It was titled, upon Chrom's inspection, 'Advanced Eugenics; A Simpleton's Guide to Breeding Your Units'. He hoped that was a joke. "As in the mysterious and handsome masked swordsman?" Her interest seemed to have peaked as well. "Is there any particular reason you didn't mention this fact earlier?"

"You had other things to worry about," Chrom said, casting a stray glance to the old bucket that happened to be rolling back and forth in the corner beside her. "Besides; his suspicion seemed to be unfounded. You're awake now, and you finally stopped puking. If anyone wanted to kill you, all they managed to do was gross us all out."

"Perhaps…" she mused, stroking her chin. "Speaking of which; where did those two go anyways? No one really got around to explaining that."

"Oh… ah," Chrom chuckled, scratching his neck. "They actually vanished shortly before we fled from the capital. Sumia lost sight of them, and that was the end of it."

"Again?!"

"Again."

Robin hid her grin behind her book, sinking backwards a little.

She got it.

Meanwhile, the scenery around them had quite clearly shifted, and now the forestry that ringed the plains around the front of the kingdom had been left behind in favor of grass and shrubbery, along with the occasional tree.

The tactician wanted to ask more questions about Marth and, to an extent, Etzel, but found herself unable to as a bit more life bled into Chrom's eyes. He looked significantly more peaceful than a few seconds prior, and it seemed that the closer he drew to home, the lighter his burden grew.

She decided that her questions could wait until later, instead going back to her book. After all; how many awful tragedies can happen in a row, right?

 **O**

 **T** he mysterious pair walked in silence, the only sounds accompanying them being the soft crunch of fluffy snow compressing under their heavy boots and the chirps of much more resilient birds as they flew from tree to tree. It was an incredibly beautiful scene framed by the soft flakes that drifted gracefully through the sky like tiny dancers, but it was quite obvious that some were enjoying the sight notably less than others, if the constant shivering was anything to go by.

Neither said a word as they walked, however, and thus the peace remained a whole - if not fragile - filter for their thoughts. It was easy to look around and see what the world could be, and the forest was one of the things that reminded Lucina of the world she had crossed through both time and now space to fight for.

"Is it just me, or is it warmer?" Robin wondered aloud, though the world didn't explode as one might have expected it to at the sound of another's voice, "I believe my blood is actually above its freezing point now."

"You are likely feeling the winds of the southeast," Lucina replied, still warm and snug in the thick cloak she had 'appropriated' from Ferox. Even through it, she too could feel the much warmer breeze on her face. "The winds there can be strong enough to travel into Feroxi territory. The warmth you feel is, ironically, that of your home."

"Plegia is where I was birthed," he corrected autonomously, almost rolling his eyes at the thought of calling the desert dwelling nation his people, "But it is not my home."

"Apologies," she said hastily, an understanding look on her face. She meant it, too."It was not my intention to…" She trailed off.

"An apology?" Robin smirked to himself, though the bitter cold was still enough to kill the smile and lend a shakiness to his voice. "It would seem you're warming up to me after all."

"You've given me a reason to trust you," she said simply, throwing the ex-tactician off balance slightly. "I wouldn't call it warmth, but for now we stand on the same side."

Robin blinked underneath his hood. He hadn't quite seen the princess's sudden change of heart coming, and while it wasn't exactly a hug or handshake - it was really more a declaration of neutrality than anything - it was welcome all the same. Much more welcome than a sword to the face, as had become the norm.

Instead of verbally responding, he instead gave a silent nod of acknowledgement. Any trust his allies put in him was something he fully intended to cherish, and he didn't plan to falter again. No matter what, he was set on helping change the future with whatever tools he could wield this time.

"If you will truly work with me," he said, nodding to the pommel of his sword. "Then I won't fail you again."

"I hope so, Etzel," Lucina replied with his moniker, her gaze wandering to the path ahead. The falling snow had gently powdered her hood, but she didn't seem perturbed by this as her face softened ever so slightly. "Because I fear that no matter the outcome, this may be our last dance."

"You believe there's no escape this time," Robin observed quickly, earning a slight nod of the head from his ally. He snorted. "Well. I wouldn't be too worried."

"The destruction of the world as we know it?" she frowned at him, cocking her head in his direction. "Even I think that joke to be in poor taste."

"It's not a joke, Luce," He said, his eyes serious and lacking the sarcastic gleam they had when he was making unnecessary comments. "Escape or no - I'm done running."

"So this will indeed be our last dance?" she said, fighting back an uncharacteristic smirk. She hadn't heard him speak with such gusto in a long time - even before their home had fallen. "That's a bold claim, Tactician."

"What can I say?" he said, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to generate warmth between his palms, "I'm a bold person. You're right; I don't think we will get another chance when darkness falls again. I'd rather die on my feet rather than trying to worm away on my stomach."

She nodded at this. Something about the whole ordeal seemed… final, as if this were the last chapter in their tale, and if he too was in agreement on that fact then it only made the stakes higher than ever. She believed the saying, as it went, was 'Do or Die.'

"How far are we from Plegian soil?" Robin suddenly asked, giving a muffled sneeze. "And Plegian climate?"

She frowned, doing the math in her head as quickly as possible. "Perhaps another day of marching if we are quick. If they ride, the Shepherds will reach the Border Sands shortly before we do."

"At least something is going according to plan," he chuckled. She could tell that the snowy forest was taking its toll on him, and probably for good reason. Biologically, he was still a Plegian - even if he had the heart of a Ylissean - and that meant he was more likely attuned to weather warmer than the freezing north. Apparently, that was one of the reasons Plegia rarely started trouble with the Feroxi until Gangrel became their masthead. "I only wish there were more settlements in this god forsaken forest… maybe we'd actually find more heat there than an Elfire and a damp shrub."

Lucina nodded in agreement. As far as she knew from Lon'qu, Feroxi's people actually preferred the cold, and so it was rarer to find settlements the further outward one traveled. But even still, the amount of villages they had seen, or rather not seen, was somewhat ludicrous. It was like they had wandered into uncharted territory, which wasn't exactly unheard of, but still unlikely.

Either way, it didn't really matter. The less stops they made, the more likely they would arrive in time to help fend off Gangrel's men. While her father didn't exactly need help, she feared what else might rear its head in this new timeline. Regna Ferox had been annihilated when there weren't even supposed to be any Risen at all, which only made straying from Chrom's side for too long even more dangerous. The confrontation with Gangrel had ended without casualties for the Shepherds last time, but it seemed that anything could change.

And then on the other hand, the dutifully marching dark-mage masquerade was another thing to consider. It was only half way through the day, and he was already looking worse for wear than when they had killed the fire in the morning. He would probably slow her down if he continued to freeze his backside off…

He looked at her as she let out a reluctant sigh, before unclasping the silver snowflake that held her cloak shut and drawing it off of her shoulders in one smooth movement. She offered it to him with a roll of her eyes. "You seem like you might need it more than I do,"

"My my," he chuckled, giving a slight grin that actually lasted as he carefully took the cloak and pulled it over his shoulders. "I suppose in a Winter Wonderland, every day is the Festival of The Divine Dragon."

"I believe they celebrate something else here," she said, finding the cold air to be tolerable, if not as comfortable. "But all the same, consider it my gift to you. I'd rather we didn't have to stop because you lose consciousness."

"If the cloak wasn't already so warm, I'm sure the sentiment alone would thaw my fingers," he said dryly as he clasped the cloak shut again. "Be sure to expect something extra special from me next year."

She sincerely hoped there would be a next year.

That had been a nice cloak…

 **O**

 **I** t was much later and much further down the road that the duo slowed their march under the setting sun, and it seemed like the time to set up their camp was once again nearing. Such a task was all but trivial, as unlike the Shepherds their camp quite literally consisted of burning sticks and small branches with magic until there was a somewhat cozy campfire, which they would proceed to huddle around for the night. It was, to be frank, a rather interesting sight under the snow laden trees of the north, but much more uncomfortable to experience firsthand.

Either way it were, this had been the way they had camped consistently since departing from Regna Ferox, and it was unlikely to change anytime soon unless they constructed a tent of skinned animals and tears, as mentioned before there seemed to be little for miles around. It was a true wilderness adventure that, Lucina grimly noted as she poked at the weak fire, would greatly please Frederick to take part in. Chances were good that he wouldn't even bat an eye at the conditions they camped under.

"Frederick has likely camped inside a live volcano before," Robin cheerfully noted as he tossed another bundle of damp sticks into the sad excuse for a camp fire.

Instead of wondering if he was being sarcastic or not, she gave a simple nod of agreement as she wrapped her thinner cloak more tightly around herself to trap her body heat. He was more likely to know that sort of thing than she was, at any rate, and thus she did not question it.

Unlike most nights, she found her mind clear as she snuggled up against her respective tree, using it to rest her back. The air was cool and crisp, with puffs of steam and smoke alike either misting the ground lightly or moving skybound and vanishing into the starry night without a sound. It reminded her of simpler times, and that was something precious in her current travels.

Despite the clarity of her thoughts, however, her vision remained sharp and her eyes wide as the fire crackled quietly. Sleep rarely came easy for the princess, but this time for a different reason entirely.

It was easy to forget the way the way the world looked when unburdened by the knowledge of what stalked its shadows. Quiet and oblivious to the horrors that intended to bring ruin to its face. If they won this war, it would be like this forever; no more would they be pieces on the gods' chess board; No more would the darkness cast by light shift and breath restlessly. It would be an era of peace.

But what of her?

She had lived her entire life in the same scenario, on the same stage. She didn't know how to farm in fields or any of that - so when the war ends, what happens next? Would she simply vanish into the world and from the lives she had yet to even enter? That sounded like the safest option for certain, but also the least appealing. It may have been selfish of her, but she wanted nothing more than to stand at her father's side again… perhaps it was childish, but somewhere inside she hoped that somehow, she could make up for the time together that they had been robbed of.

"Robin?" she said suddenly, looking back down and over the campfire at the huddled tactician. He gave an inquisitive grunt in return, but otherwise said nothing. "What do you intend to do when this long war ends? How do you wish to spend the rest of your life?"

Robin seemed to hesitate for a moment, before leaning back against his own tree with a thoughtful expression. "I don't know. Why?"

"Just curious."

He blinked, before a knowing grin came upon his features and a gleam to his eye. "You don't know what you intend to do yourself, and thus you want my thoughts - yes?"

A frown was all he received in response, causing him to give an amused chortle.

"I honestly don't know where to start," he said, shaking his head and tossing another lone branch onto the fire. "Perhaps I won't. This world already seems to have a less handsome me in it, and unlike you she's already replaced me," He shrugged, "So there's my thoughts. I would hope you don't intend to follow that same line of thinking, though."

"I believe we've already had this discussion," she said, biting her tongue and looking back to the stars to avoid meeting his gaze. "I don't belong. Though she hasn't even been born yet, another will in time replace me as well. My father-"

"I may be the last person you want to hear this from," he grunted, leaning forwards and poking at her leg with one of the sticks that were resting on his lap, "But you truly need to dislodge that kneader from where it has firmly wedged itself up your ass."

Lucina flinched unconsciously at the blunt remark, looking for and failing to find a biting retort to fling back at him. It seemed that he didn't see the problems that two princesses could cause when aforementioned princesses are the same person, with one being significantly older, scarred, and from the future. "I don't think you understand-"

"I understand family, Luce," he said, sounding almost defeated as he slumped back and dropped the stick into the snow. Despite the perceived act of weakness, his words were delivered with an utmost certainty that kept her tongue in check. "I understand more than you could imagine. I don't know that it's like to have parents that care about me, and I won't ever experience anything like it..." Lucina shifted uncomfortably at the direction the conversation was taking, "But I know a hell of a lot more about being a father than you do."

She was at first stunned; felt that she should snap something back at him - accusing him of suggesting that he knew her father better than she did - but all that came out when she opened her mouth was air. His words were uncharacteristically passionate for him, but his challenging glare didn't waver as he stared her down with a look that dared her to speak without thinking very carefully about what was going to leave her mouth.

"...All quiet here?" he cocked an eyebrow as the tension left his face in an instant, as though nothing had happened. Much to her horror, she realized that she had been shocked into silence for the first time in over four years. "Excellent. Good talk."

Shaking her head mutely, she turned her gaze skyward once more. Above, lights had begun to streak through the sky in fantastical patterns of green and blue that could only be seen in Ferox, painting the moon with a colourful hue. The tactician certainly seemed to have his moments, if one were to compare his speech at the arena to the one he had just delivered.

With a sigh, she kissed her clarity of mind goodbye as it died with a silent cry of agony.

It was quiet for a bit longer still, until she finally drifted off.

 **O**

… **T** he sun had barely poked its golden face over the horizon as the dawn broke through the trees in rays of light, when two dreary figures were ripped from their slumbers by their internal clocks. The birds of the morning were already quite active well before either had pulled themselves out of the snow, and this was further punctuated as a ear-piercing caw chased after the tendrils of sleep - screaming at the lethargy that hung over their minds.

Lucina was the first of the duo to actually blink the sleep out of her eyes and rise into a crouch, shaking the snow that had fallen onto her head from the tree she had slept against off of the hood that had been pulled up over her ears.

With a start, the princess realized that her clothing didn't have a hood, and it wasn't long before she realized that she had been using an unfamiliar cloak as a blanket of sorts. Or, at the very least, a cloak that did not belong to _her_ exactly.

As she ripped it off of her person and held it out of the snowy burrow she had made for herself in her sleep, her eyes zeroed in on a lump in the snow a short distance away from her resting place, lying in front of a tree just on the other side of the campfire. After a moment, a head of silvery hair lifted from the frost as the lump in question sat up, leaving a disgruntled Robin looking around with alerted brown orbs.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, rubbing the crust of sleep out of the corners of his eyes with a hand as the other remained under his borrowed cloak - no doubt charged with the more detestable variant of magical energy that he had used at the capital city.

The thought alone almost brought a disgusted grimace upon her usually fair features as she recalled the purple mark that was blazed across her traveling companion's right hand. The shape it took had come to stand for all that was wrong with the world in her mind, and the fact that such a simple symbol could grant such unholy power only made her all the more reluctant to trust those it had been bestowed upon.

"N-No," Shaking herself out of her dazed state of mind, she felt slow to reply as the cold and her own fading dreams worked in unison to dull her thoughts. As if in explanation, she nodded hastily to the black and purple cloak that had previously been draped over her sleeping form. "I was simply surprised."

"Of course," he nodded, seeming to understand despite that general lack of context that her words were delivered with. The snow-haired man reached over the dead fire and accepted the offered coat with an odd expression, as though something more than the icy morning troubled him. "You were speaking in your sleep last night. You looked cold, so I threw you my coat, and then the rest is history. I apologize if it startled you."

The princess frowned at this, her cerulean orbs narrowing and focusing her gaze into a beam that could almost surely cut glass were it necessary. His lips seemed unsure as to what shape they should take, and his eyes were nervously attempting to look anywhere but into hers as they completed the handoff.

Her own mouth warped into an upside down line that aptly displayed her disappointment in him. He was failing horribly at keeping whatever he didn't want her to know a secret, and it was left to wonder what exactly had happened that brought on the sudden change in his attitude. Even as he turned away from her to attempt to breath life back into the frosted over campfire, she could see his face pale slightly as the fingers of his casting hand twitched and flexed restlessly.

"Sleep talking," She mused casually as she dug into her satchel for the parchment-wrapped bread that was to serve as their breakfast. "Fascinating. Did I say anything of interest?"

"Nothing coherent," he said quickly, shaking his head firmly while she passed him half of the cold, hard loaf. "I believe you were having a nightmare."

" _It's so pretty! You're really giving this to me?"_

" _Mother would have wanted you to have it. I don't have much use for it, anyways."_

Lucina almost choked on her bread as a sad flame began to slowly crawl across the new branches that had been placed on the fire. The fragments of a broken dream were enough to cause a cold sweat to form on the back of her neck, and with a strangled cough she spat the hard piece of her meal into the fire like a whole wheat high-velocity projectile.

"Lucina?" he said, spinning to face her as she wiped her mouth of the nasty spit and drool that had exploded from her face on her sleeve. "Are you-"

"-I'm fine," she hacked into her sleeve, a sour taste left in her mouth while an uneasy feeling was left in her stomach. As she looked back up, she found Robin staring at her expectantly, a curious look on his face that demanded explanation and thus quick thinking. It was less for his benefit and more so her own that the subject was quickly dropped, as she had found her own curiosity stamped out like a spark that had broken away from its flame. "I choked."

She immediately recoiled at the offered explanation. It was not her best lie, that much was certain…

"... I see," his tone was uncertain as he turned back to the fire, holding his half of the loaf over the fire in what she guessed to be an attempt to thaw it in a considerably more relaxed manner. It was quite clear that the ruse had been seen through, but to his credit he didn't press on her slip-up. Evidently neither of them were keen on talking about that matter - not right now, anyways. "If you ever wish to talk about anything, I'll be willing to listen."

Before Lucina could say anything in response to his offer, she felt every muscle in her body tense as the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Her hands instinctively came to rest on the sheath and grip of her weapon as her legs unconsciously shifted into a sturdier stance that promised a tough fight for one that chose to go against her.

"Lu- _Marth?"_ Robin faltered as he turned at the sound of the Parallel Falchion's crossguard quietly clicking against its sheath put him into an alarmed state. "What is it?"

"...Something's… not right," she replied, momentarily releasing her grip to flip her mask up onto her face from where it had been hanging around her neck. As he opened his mouth to say something, she shushed him before a word could pass through his lips. "Listen."

He paused on the spot, his expression freezing as his snowy hair was blown in the nearly inaudible winds, and there were a few seconds where neither he nor she could pick up anything out of the ordinary. The seconds ticked by, trickling through their fingers, until finally an entire minute had passed. He appeared to be thinking about moving, when suddenly they both shifted as a voice echoed through the trees from seemingly all around.

"Did you hear it?"

He nodded at her, his eyes sharpening as he flipped his hood up without a second thought. "Sounds like trouble. We have no time to spare dealing with miscreants, however. We had best be on our guard."

Instead of replying, she wordlessly jerked her head towards the exposed handle of the Parallel Falchion, which now gleamed in all its glory in the morning light.

"... Right," he huffed, sounding almost miffed, "Right. At any rate, unless you need to go, we'd do well to start moving."

Lucina didn't have to go.

 **O**

 **Not… Enough… Jokes… Ughhhhh**

 **O**

" **T** ogether," Chrom shouted over his shoulder as his horse began to pick up speed. "We ride!"

"He sure does like saying that," Stahl noted quietly to Robin from beside the carriage that she was riding in. "Is it a joke I'm not getting?"

"Something like that," she snickered in response, only adding to his confusion as she leaned back into her seat.

The ride had begun shortly after breakfast, and after all of the marching she had done since she could remember, the luxurious way to travel was a welcome change of pace. Unlike the rough wooden cart that had taken her back from Ferox, the royal carriage was elegant and expertly crafted for comfort. Or, at the very least, that was what it felt like to the amnesiac. After all - leather seats! That was seriously nice.

However, she couldn't help but find her concentration divided as she tried to lose herself in the passing scenery. Sitting across from her as still as a statue, Frederick was attempting and partially succeeding at blending into the shadows of the corner. Even if he was invisible though, she was certain that she would still feel his unnerving stare from any _conceivable_ distance.

"Do not mind Frederick," Emmeryn told her kindly, evidently taking her own advice as she smiled at her. "He truly means well."

"Well," Robin began, a sly grin appearing on her face, "you _are_ allowing me to ride in your carriage. I can handle… whatever _that_ is. Besides - I think he's warming up to me."

Frederick continued to stare with his previous stony expression.

"Yup." she nodded to herself, satisfied.

Emmeryn chuckled lightheartedly, and for a moment the entire carriage felt brighter and happier at the sound alone. "You jest, but the fact that you are in here at all suggests his faith in you is more than he puts in most."

The tactician almost rolled her eyes as she turned her gaze back out the window. Outside, trees were passing by at an acceptable pace, and she could just see the rear of Chrom's mount ahead. Chrom had told her that she was to ride with Emmeryn after she almost ran her horse into a market stall thirty seconds after boarding it. He had awkwardly explained that someone needed to protect Emmeryn, and she was perfect for the job - though he was far too out of breath after catching her horse to convince her that it wasn't because she almost killed Ylisstol's entire merchant guild in record time.

As for Frederick; he had immediately volunteered to surrender his horse to Vaike as so that he could ride in the carriage as well. It didn't take a genius to figure out why he was there. He still appeared to have beef with her after she so rudely napped in his field.

Worst of all; she had already finished her book. It had been very enlightening, but they still had a couple hours before they arrived at the Plegian border. She appreciated the scenery, but Naga above was she bored…

"So…" she said stupidly, looking from Frederick to Emmeryn. "Nice weather we're having, right?"

"It is pleasant," The Exalt agreed wholeheartedly, undaunted by the poor small-talk that was offered to her. Frederick, meanwhile, continued to imitate a statue of a grumpy man-like bear. "The air does get rather dry this time of year, however. Lissa's poor nose gets stuffy."

"I see."

The awkward silence that followed was only made worse by the icy glare she was receiving, which contrasted sharply with the warm glow coming from her right. Idly, she wondered how Frederick had come to be so close to the Royal Family. He was certainly more than a bodyguard - she was pleased to relate him to a doting nanny with a dark side. Or perhaps two dark sides and a sunny interior reserved for Chrom…

 _Yes yes-_

"Lady Emmeryn?" Robin suddenly asked, turning her head to look at the at the kind ruler. Emmeryn looked back, nodding silently and signalling for her to proceed. "I've heard a bit about this Gangrel man, but not much. Do you have anything you could tell me about him - just so I don't run into any surprises?"

 _Closer-_

"Of course," Emmeryn nodded, folding her hands and placing them in her lap as she looked down at her feet. For a moment, her face seemed to darken almost sorrowfully, as though she were thinking of something sad. "You are the kind that seeks to know more about the world around them, aren't you? … Gangrel is a cruel man. There is light in him still, but I fear that his hate and anger have blinded him. Whoever he once was, only the mad king remains." She sighed remorsefully. "That is what I know. He is reckless and will kill Lady Maribelle if we do not make haste."

 _up Almost here_

Robin paused, thinking over what she knew as the Exalt waited expectantly. "You said that he hasn't made any communication with Ylisse in a while, right? Then if he appears now and thinks to bargain with someone's life, then he must be a fool as well."

Emmeryn chuckled dryly at that, looking more tired and exceptionally 'done' than before. "Gangrel may be mad, but he is no fool. I only want this to end without bloodshed - but I believe he has something else in mind. I can only hope that I am wrong…"

 _Come home_

Robin ignored the quiet voice. It was louder than before, and now she felt certain that the closer they drew to Plegian soil, the louder it would become… something was wrong… "A trap then? Kinda cliché. Maybe he doesn't watch a lot of movies."

"Perhaps," Emmeryn nodded with a coy smile.

"Wait," Robin choked, all her wit abandoning her in her time of need as she was put back a foot. Usually, this was the part where _they_ were supposed to be confused. "What?"

"Regardless," Emmeryn sighed, her head slumping back against the leather-padded wall of the carriage as her eyes shut themselves. "I will do what I must for my people, and for Maribelle. I want nothing to do with war - but I sense that something dark looms on the horizon…" her voice turned to a whisper. _"...May Naga guide us."_

 _This is our fate-_

 _Give it to me! Give me the Fire Emblem!_

 **O**

 **I'm not dead. Surprise. Sorry for the slow updates - got meself stuck in a rut I did.**

 **Also, school started up again, kept me busy. However, I thank you school, for you have reminded me that being a lazy fuck is not how you write. Being a lazy fuck that thinks and imagines when he should be paying attention, however, is exactly how you write. I dunno - I feel more like writing when it's not summer. So hey.**

 **Consider this filler, because I needed to cover some shit. I wanted to include more characters and actually work on building trust between Lucina and Robin. Slowly but surely, she's becoming less of a bitter 'I'll-do-it-myself' lonewolf.**

 **Lastly, I'd like an opinion on this chapter. I don't often ask for those, as I'm often content with the feedback I receive, but I did a little something different with my writing style. It feels more natural than before, and I want to know what you guys think.**

 **Kthxbye**


	11. Chapter 11

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter XI**

 **The Exalt and the Knight**

 _ **And the other dudes, I guess.**_

 **O**

 **C** hrom didn't like it. Not one bit. Up ahead, two Plegian soldiers were unmoving on their mounts as they waited on either side of the road. The sight of them alone gave him a bad feeling, and it took all his self control to keep his hands on the reins and away from his weapon.

Emmeryn had warned him. Any perceived acts of aggression would only give Gangrel a reason to attack, and the thought of playing into that psychopath's hands made him sick to his stomach.

"Hold!" he called over his shoulder, loudly enough to be heard by the entirety of his miniature convoy. At his word, the horse-drawn carriage that carried his sister slowed to a stop, along with Sully, Stahl, and Vaike's (Frederick's) horses. Meanwhile, Sumia and Phila's Pegasi circled above aimlessly, their lances holstered on the sides of their rides. He hoped looking awesomely dangerous wasn't an act of aggression.

At their arrival, the guards moved forwards in unison, their own lances looking dangerously sharp and, unlike their own, drawn.

"Exalt Emmeryn and Prince Chrom of Ylisse," the one on the right spat, somehow managing to make the holy title sound like an insult, "Your presence in Plegia is so by the will of King Gangrel. Keep your weapons stowed, and there will be no problems."

Chrom grimaced, his teeth gritting as the two guards stared him down. Their expressions were masked by the heavy helmets that they wore - not exactly standard fare for the desert warriors - but he could _feel_ their disgusted gazes.

As for them? Well, they could probably see his own.

"Of course," he gritted out.

"Was that sass I just heard?" the guard that had first spoken demanded, leaning forwards on his horse as though to come face-to-face with the prince despite the good three foot gap that separated them without mounts. He looked to his fellow guard. "You hear that?"

"Oh yeah," the other guard nodded vigorously back, his armored head turning from Chrom to the guard, and then back to Chrom. "Definitely sass."

"Are we going to meet Gangrel anytime soon," Chrom piped up, resisting the urge to facepalm, "or…?"

The guard gave an annoyed huff and likely shot one last glare at the prince, before his horse turned and they began trekking down the road wordlessly. Chrom frowned hesitantly, before giving the order to advance again and following them.

"I don't like this," Sully said, voicing his own thoughts as her horse came up beside him, "Smells like a trap."

"I know," he replied shortly, his brow wrinkling as his eyes bore holes into the backs of the Plegian guards ahead. "Keep your weapon close and we'll find out what they're up to." He grimaced. "Just… keep it in its holster too. Emm's counting on us."

"That's our plan?" Stahl commented as he pulled up on the prince's other side, an uncertain smile on his face, "I don't think I see how this is going to work in our favor, uh, at all."

"It probably won't," Chrom admitted.

"Oh," Stahl chuckled half heartedly, brushing a lock of olive hair away from his eyes. "Great. I guess my last meal will have been scrambled eggs and burnt toast..." He sighed audibly. "Now I'm hungry. Er, I was hungry before - but now I'm more hungry."

Chrom cracked a grin at the comment, no matter how dark it was. Things were probably going to go south, but he got the feeling it might work out. Robin had said something about 'Plot Armor', and she seemed to know what she was talking about - even if she was a little crazy.

However, the grin withered slightly as he spotted several shapes gliding silently through the sky above. They were nothing more than dark splotches against the sun, but their course from Plegia left little doubt that they were anything but birds. If he had to guess, they were probably trouble instead of…

...He couldn't think of anything else that flew and didn't cause trouble.

The swordsman cursed quietly, nudging his allies with his foot and jerking his head up at the approaching threats.

"Oh yeah," Stahl observed, sighing. "Eggs and burnt toast."

"Keep your weapons down," he ordered again, shaking his head at Sully's half-drawn lance. "Stahl, send word to Emmeryn's carriage. Make sure Robin knows."

"If you say so."

"Heavy security for an escort," Sully said as the shapes grew larger. Her expression darkened as the fliers came close enough to spot the gleam of their drawn weapons. Axes, as far as Chrom could tell. "... _Son of a Griffin."_

"They're taking no chances," he agreed.

The land around them had begun to change, and trees had started to grow fewer and farther between, if he got that saying right. Now, the shrubs that _did_ appear grew weakly out of the dry and cracked earth that they treaded.

Plegian soil had never been more unappealing.

Ahead, he could see the road break up and curve, twist and turn up the mountain-like cliff face that divided the two nations. The curious formation was fondly referred to as the Border Pass by Ylisseans, though if he remembered correctly, a less fond name had been given by Plegia.

Due to the destruction his father had caused, Ylisse was not looked upon kindly by the desert-dwellers, and thus the Border Pass was also known to Plegians as 'Hell's Gate' - the only thing separating them from the demons.

Morbidly, Chrom wondered which side of the gate the so-called 'demons' were on.

"Better watch it, Chrom," Vaike whisper-yelled as he took the departed Stahl's place. The man's axe was holstered snuggly in the set of leather straps that were slung over his shoulder, but Chrom was already counting on needing to use the spare that was in Emmeryn's carriage.

"What?" Chrom faltered, frowning as Vaike made no move to elaborate on his own. "Why?"

"Look."

His eyes followed the extended digit upwards to the left of the road, until they finally settled neatly on a conspicuous spike of metal extending from over one of the rocky ridges of the pass that the road ran through. It was thin, short, and honestly really hard to spot. The only reason Chrom could focus on it so quickly was the glaring sun that lit the polished steel up like a celebratory candle.

His resisted the urge to facepalm as he saw it quiver.

"Archers," Vaike said not-so-cryptically, giving a reassuring thumbs up and a grin. "Nothin' Teach can't handle, but I-"

"-Don't want me dying before you beat me," he finished tiredly as he realized there was definitely a fight ahead. "Yes, you have mentioned it before."

Sumia and Phila were high up - probably out of range of any archers. But how was he to let them know about them? If combat started, they would likely drop right down into their line of fire, and then…

He grimaced. Bad news: the only news he had been receiving lately.

"You actually saw that?" Sully balked, an impressed look on her face as she squinted at the helmet-spike in the distance. "Huh. 'Guess you're not as dumb as I thought!"

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Chrom played along. Anything to take his mind off the situation - he wanted to look calm and composed in the face of danger. God knows Frederick and Emm could pull it off. "Now let's see how long he can keep this up."

"Aww! C'mon Chrom!"

"What's going on?" Stahl wondered as he poked his bedhead forward to see past Sully, "Did I hear someone say ketchup?"

"Vaike saw our impending doom."

"Eggs and burnt toast," Stahl groaned, slumping forwards on his mount and resting his chin on her head.

"Don't be a wimp," Sully ordered without pause, nudging her fellow cavalier hard where most would nudge lightly. "Me and you trained for this crap - well, mostly me, but what the hell."

"We're not dead yet," Chrom nodded, setting his jaw as the passage walls grew taller, to the point where the entire road was bathed in cool shade. Ahead, the guards were quietly arguing about something. "But I'd keep my eyes up if you wish to stay that way."

Up ahead, the passage expanded to run parallel to a massive rocky gash that cut through the cliff-face, painted in a mosaic of stone shadows and sandy sunlight. The road wound uphill, curving around impassable rocks that jutted out of the uneven ground and slipping up where it could at certain intervals in the hill face. It ultimately looked like someone had decided to build a passage between two mountains on a smaller mountain - which wasn't far off, to be honest.

To his surprise, the pass seemed relatively void of movement, and the stone forts that were scattered randomly on various levels of the rock formation were closed and silent. It looked almost abandoned, through and through.

"Ladies and gents," the guard from before announced over his shoulder, a lighter tone to his voice as they approached the formation. Uneasily, the prince wondered if the mountain had split apart at some point - and if it would close again while they were between it. "Welcome to the Border Pass. I'd recommend against keeping his majesty waiting. You brought the blonde, right?"

Chrom's fists tightened on the reins of his steed, and a most certainly unpleasant look came upon his face. "Her name's Emmeryn, and you will address her as-"

"Peace, Chrom."

"Emm?!" The prince tried to keep his expression neutral as his sister strode out to stand before the group, almost protectively placing herself between the pass and her convoy. Before he could say anything else, however, Vaike was roughly ripped from his ride as Frederick gracefully took his horse back and Robin ran out to join the Exalt. "What are you-"

"I couldn't stop her," Robin breathlessly explained as she slid to a stop, her robe flaring up as she almost ran into Emmeryn. "Sorry!"

"'Teach just got horse-jacked!"

Vaike's dethroning was the least of Chrom's problems as both of the guards stiffened on their horses, their hands finding home on the handles of their heavy weapons at the unexpected appearance of the Exalt. It was obvious that they hadn't been counting on such rash behaviour, and for a moment, Chrom worried that they intended to strike her down on the spot. He bit his tongue; things were about to go really wrong, and Emm was in the worst possible position.

He let out an annoyed breath while his own hands moved for the Falchion. He hoped Emmeryn would understand that he didn't have a choice in the matter.

" _Enough_!" a voice called out over the shrieking of drawing steel, and Chrom's hands froze in place as the top of a head poked over the ridge of the lowest layer of the rock formation above. Even the guards were quick to resheath their arms as the head of silver hair was joined by a…

Vaike whistled from where he laid on the ground.

The woman that emerged was tall and fine in her features, with a lithe build and an amused smile tugging at her lips. Her face, darkened by the Plegian sun, was decaled with swirling black tattoos that extended from either side of her face to the corners of her eyes.

Instantly, Chrom let out a muffled grunt as the mark on his shoulder sent a flare of pain through his arm. His attempts to conceal his wince were met with ill results, and he met the woman's coy smile with a glare as she eyed him. " _Who_ …?"

"Hm," the woman chuckled darkly, her voice reverbrating across the passage as she was joined by an imposing figure in black, ornamental plate armor, both coming to stand on the ledge above. "The Exalt herself? Quite unexpected. How _brave_ of her."

Emmeryn seemed to also feel the aura that the woman radiated, as she too went rigid at her appearance. The shock, however, only seemed to last moments before her voice was ringing out to meet the greeting. "And you are Aversa - King Gangrel's spokeswoman. Forgive me; I was under the impression that I would be meeting the king himself."

"Alas," Aversa's smirk disappeared, being replaced with something… darker, as her eyes bore into Emm's. "His majesty has found himself… preoccupied. I have been sent in his stead."

"Very well." Emmeryn composed herself and let out a short sigh as Chrom joined her on the ground, coming to stand at her other side. "Then I have come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us." She said.

"The truth?" Aversa laughed, "I can give you the truth." She turned her head to look over her shoulder and beyond Chrom's line of sight. "Bring me the girl."

Seemingly on que, a familiar figure was dragged kicking and screaming into sight by a previously unseen soldier. Chrom bit his lip as Maribelle was unceremoniously hauled over the ridge before being dropped roughly onto the edge of the earthy slide - mere inches from going down the steep slope.

She seemed to share little of his concern, however, as she continued to curse out the brigand that had brought her in the most ladylike fashion. "Release me, you gutter-born, oafish, _troglodytic_ , boorish, _racist_ -"

"-Hey!" the brigand barked, his sweat-shined face taking on an offended appearance, "Racist?! We going there?"

"-moronic _,"_ she continued louder, ignoring him, " _GRACELESS-"_

"As I was saying," Aversa struck up the political discussion once more, though clearly straining to be heard over Maribelle's constant yelling, "I can give you the truth. You see, this girl crossed the Plegian border without our consent." A sly grin overtook her features as her eyes leapt from Emmeryn to Chrom, clearly enjoying her own tale, "And what's more? She wounded the brave Plegian soldiers who sought only to escort her home safely."

" _Lies!"_ Maribelle screeched, her rant cutting into a high-pitched protest that made Chrom wince. "You speak nothing but lies, hag!" Her eyes narrowed and her glare could probably cut glass as she spoke, "Did they not teach you the meaning of the word 'truth' in wretched-crone school?!"

"Ouch," Stahl offered sympathetically as the comment wiped the smirk off of Aversa's face. "Maribelle'd."

"'Girl's got a gift." Sully looked almost envious as she folded her arms. "I can respect that."

Emmeryn, meanwhile, looked absolutely neutral towards the third-degree burn as she watched the silver-haired woman, gauging her reaction. It was evident that the aforementioned hag wasn't pleased by the guess, and if Chrom didn't know better, he'd mistake the wise ruler to be smiling at the remark. "You see?" Aversa said, regaining her calm demeanour - if not slightly disgusted - as she gestured airily to the biting noble, "No manners at all. Such a nasty little bird simply had to be caged - for her own sake, of course." She tacked the last part on, as though it were an afterthought.

...Needless to say, this didn't sound all that… true, to Chrom. Were he to be bolder, which would indeed be quite a feat, he might even call shenanigans. However, he wasn't that bold, and to be completely honest, he couldn't think of anyone that was bolder than him.

"Shenanigans!" Robin accused, pointing a finger at the lying witch with a firm gleam in her eyes. "I think that only you are at fault here. I don't really like Maribelle. Like, at all. But you?" She accentuated her words with an exaggerated finger-jab, "Look at you! You're totally evil." Robin paused suddenly, retracting her finger hastily. "That doesn't make me racist, does it? It's because you're black, not because you're a Plegian." She cursed. "I mean, like, dressed in black, not - _damn it!"_

Aversa simply laughed at the accusation, turning and walking carefully along the ridge as her dark clothing flowed behind her gracefully. Chrom was getting a bad feeling as the knight that stood beside her made no move to follow, his hand instead remaining on the handle of the unique, jagged blade that was sheathed over his shoulder. Out of habit, his own found itself drawn towards his fingers, and it took all his self control to keep the weapon in its sheath.

"Evil?" She chuckled, almost bitterly as she paused her walk. Slowly, her withering gaze turned on the Shepherds, and even Emmeryn was put back a step at the sheer hatred that she found burning in the other woman's eyes. "That is what you would call us, I suppose. I expected nothing less, after all…"

"Please," Emmeryn said suddenly, stepping forwards, "This quarrel has nothing to do with lady Maribelle. Release her, so we may discuss this in a more civilized manner."

"You don't understand…" said Aversa in a low voice as her head bowed. When she looked back up however, her eyes were sharper than his Falchion, and if looks could kill he was certain that Emm would never have stood a chance. "It's over, Ylisseans."

Chrom gritted his teeth as the soldiers that had guided their convoy backed away, and were quickly joined by three other brigands clad in Plegian garb, including the one that had been towering over Maribelle.

"Civilized conversation was not what your father used," she continued loudly, stepping up onto the edge of her cliff. Her dark gaze was leaping from face to face, never settling on just one as she surveyed the pass. "The time for conversing has long since passed; you've taken _everything_ from us time and time again, and in the end we all come back to this point… because no one ever wins."

He flinched at the mention of his father. The previous Exalt had been a ruthless, cruel man, and the prince hated him for the legacy that he had left for Emm; hated him for the broken pieces of a country that she was left to put back together on her own. Her hands still bore the scars from every time she was cut by the jagged fragments.

But what had she meant by coming back to this point? That line made less sense. She made it sound like this was about more than a longstanding grudge. She sounded almost broken by the thought - like it was a dark a discovery they had yet to unearth…

"Oi!" Sully shouted, meeting the woman's glare with one of her very own. "'The hell are you talking about? Stop speaking in stupid riddles!"

"If you wish." Aversa smiled a haunting smile that didn't reach her eyes. "The simplest way to say it is that war isn't just brewing between our nations, dear Exalted. The breath of ruin has brought an old war to our lands, and we are to march to his tune yet again."

There was a brief silence.

"... Which part of that was supposed to make sense?" Robin finally ventured, genuinely curious as her eyebrows furrowed. "Like… I don't even."

"That was just another gods damned riddle," Sully agreed, throwing her arms into the air, "What the hell?!"

"The Vaike is so confused right now, he don't even got the words to describe it!"

"Does it mean we don't have to fight?" Stahl asked Chrom, who was also scratching his head. The olive-haired cavalier was looking rather hopeful, but unfortunately the prince himself didn't even understand it. "Because if it doesn't, then I've got nothing…" He laughed nervously.

"I've had enough of this charming conversation," Aversa snarled, looking thoroughly annoyed. To be fair, if she wanted them to understand she really should have been less poetic in her speech. The Shepherds weren't exactly known for their genius when Miriel wasn't around. "Kill them all," she ordered, turning and pointing a digit to the black knight that had previously been motionless, "You're still recovering - if the princess and her plaything make an appearance, do make a quick exit; won't you, darling?"

Chrom was quick on the draw, the Falchion sliding from its sheath in an instant as the other Shepherds followed suit in a series of rasping leathers and shrieking steels. That was a declaration of war that he could definitely understand as the knight gave a jerky nod while Aversa vanished.

"Lady Emmeryn," Robin said evenly as her brand new iron sword found itself in one hand and her sparkly new Thunder Tome (+2) appeared in the other. "Please, get behind us!"

"I had hoped a peaceful talk wasn't too much to hope for," Emmeryn lamented as she retreated behind the group towards her carriage, "But I suppose then we wouldn't have a story…"

The towering knight looked to be the biggest problem to Robin. She could see that the man's armor was heavy, but he didn't seem to be too weighed down by it as he hauled his own weapon over his shoulder and buried its tip into the ground as she had seen Chrom do before. The jagged blade looked wickedly sharp, and its various hooks suggested that it was meant to rip flesh instead of cutting.

"Watch out for that sword!" she called out in warning as the armored figure carelessly dropped down to their level, unfazed by the hard landing. It wasn't a long drop, but his armor had to have made it hurt like a _bitch_. There were many ways she could have described it and its danger to her allies, but there was really only one word that floated to the top immediately. "It's freakin' awesome!"

"Keep a distance," Chrom agreed as two more brigands dropped over the ledge and joined their brothers in arms. Things were going pretty much as she had thought that they would, but Vaike still had his axe. "Robin, can you-"

"I'm already on it," she replied smugly, already flipping through the pages of her tome with a deft hand. She could feel the electricity surging through her body, and carefully she took aim at the imposing figure that was lurking at the rear of his forces. It was time to show off her new tricks. " _Thunder!"_

At her call, a burst of lightning exploded from the tips of her fingers, zigzagging across the battlefield in a brilliant yellow flash that was truly dazzling. It slammed into the knight's chest, tendrils of electricity arcing across his armor and forcing him backwards a step as the smell of ozone invaded her nostrils.

Shockingly, the knight stumbled, before finally dropping to one knee as wisps of smoke rose up from the openings in his sizzling suit.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, a surprised look flashing across her face as her eyes lit up. Slowly, she looked down at her still crackling hand, where jolts of lightning were dancing across her fingers. "That actually worked…?"

 **O**

 **T** he sound of clashing blades and twanging bowstrings echoed magnificently off of the chasm-like walls, jumping from rock face to rock face until finally being let loose into the sky.

Meanwhile, moving stealthily along one of the ledges that wrapped around the northern mountain of the pass, the dynamic duo that could be likened to a certain brooding dark knight and his bird-named sidekick were creeping ever nearer to the chaos, unseen by either party.

"It's already begun," Lucina noted, adjusting her mask as she edged along the narrow ledge. Robin was following closely behind, occasionally cursing as the time-traveling princess's worn blue cloak flapped into his face or just generally slapped at him "But we aren't too late."

"If the fighting's already started, then there will be trouble regardless," Robin snarled as he beat away her rebellious cape. If it got him killed, he was never going to forgive her. "Negotiations were supposed to last a bit longer than this. Grima must have interfered somehow."

It wasn't exactly a surprise to the snow-haired amnesiac. After the shit-show that was Regna Ferox, it had dawned on him that nothing in this timeline was going to go their way in the slightest, and that the Fell Dragon was going to do everything in his power to stop them.

This complicated things. It meant their knowledge of the future - _their_ past - was unreliable, and anything could change.

"We cannot allow things to go as far here as they did in Ferox," she told him, her mouth a bitter frown, tainted with remorse. He nodded. "We must stop this conflict before someone gets hurt."

"You're right." He nodded again. That was the plan, anyways; if they could end this recurring nightmare without any casualties for their side, it would do wonders for his self esteem. Of course, he was still trying to decide whether or not Maribelle counted as 'their side'...

Unfortunately, he got the feeling that she did. Can't win them all, as they say. Then again, that did mean that if he was losing a little by saving someone, then he didn't have to lose a little by losing someone… or perhaps he was over thinking the old saying.

Either way, there was still a glaring flaw in their master plan to save the Shepherds as well as the world, and he couldn't help but feel that it was better to bring it up sooner rather than later, before Lucina got ahead of herself…

"'Marth'?" he asked, fixing his wind-displaced hood so that he didn't run into her. "I realize that you're ready to destroy your enemies and save your father and what not, but there's something that has been bothering me, and I had hoped you could clear it up for me."

"What is it?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him and stopping their advance momentarily. "Is it about the other Robin? Were you contemplating your own existence in this world, wondering what the effects of you two coexisting could be, and if it would bring armageddon?"

"I… no." He frowned, waiting for her to smile, and when it didn't happen he realized that she was dead serious. "What?"

"It seemed like the sort of thing that would be bothering you."

"...Well it's bothering me now," he lamented, suddenly feeling a tad heavier. Mentally, he made a note to look into such things later. "But my actual question was less… intense." Offhandedly, he made a grand, sweeping gesture over Hell's Gate. The sounds of clashing irons could be heard down below, and below he could now see Chrom's party locked in combat with the Plegian 'negotiators' that had been lying in wait.

The particular ledge that the pair were shimmying across was a little over a foot wide, and so rough and unstable that only the incredibly foolish or incredibly brave fools would dare attempt to move across it.

It was also at least thirty or forty feet above the ground, and Robin wasn't really seeing an elevator.

"How the hell do we get down there?" he inquired politely. "Without breaking every bone in our bodies?

The Border Pass was made out of two jagged, spire-like mountains that stretched from the center of the neck to the coast on each side, separating the head-like continent of Plegia from Ylisse. The only way through was the gap in the dead center of the neck, where the two mountains stood like stony sentries on either side of the rough, uneven terrain that was the pass.

It was a natural defensive position, and Plegia had used it to their advantage by setting up various fortresses on the multiple levels of earth in the center. If an invading force wanted to get through, they would have to march through the narrow passage and then fight uphill, where numerous enemy defenses would be waiting.

Of course, this didn't deter our heroes. Starting at the coast, they had taken advantage of the nooks and crannies to make their way up and around the mountain. But now, thirty feet in the air, it was a matter of getting down again.

And Robin now realized that, just maybe, Lucina didn't have a plan for that after all.

The swordswoman was silent for a long moment, and made no move to continue her shuffle along the ledge. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head, and with every metaphorical click his hopes for an answer died a little more.

"... Down?"

"I see," he said dryly. This was what usually happened when people with blue hair tried to do his job.

Suddenly, there was a loud shrieking sound that ripped the air asunder, bouncing off of the pass walls and drowning out everything else.

They both flinched as an armored pegasus carried by angelic wings tore through the pass in a graceful swoop, followed closely by a black, scaly wyvern. The tailwind that the fliers dragged behind them almost knocked the ex-tactician clear from the rocky ledge, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Lucina steadying herself as well.

" _Mother_?!" her tongue slipped while her head pivoted as though it was on a swivel, following after the dogfighting riders. "T-That was Sumia!"

Robin wasn't quite paying attention as his umber eyes scanned the direction that they had come from.

Darting through the skies near the border, he could see another wyvern chasing after another pegasus knight - Phila, if he had to guess - and he was already hating himself for the plan that was forming in his head. Pegasi were generally more vulnerable that wyverns, which explained why they were the ones leading the battle and the dragon-like mounts were chasing.

"This is gonna be so goddamn _cool_ ," he finally told himself reassuringly, tapping his partner on the shoulder urgently. Time was of the essence yet again, and there never seemed to be enough time… "I've got a plan, Lucina. Just follow my lead - when I say jump, you must jump; understand?"

"Are you insane?!" she demanded, and it didn't sound like a rhetorical question. He would have thought about it, but he honestly didn't think that he would like the answer he came up with. She didn't even look angry with him; she only looked shocked, as if he had earnestly told her to jump off a cliff.

"I'm not at liberty to answer that question," he dodged the question artfully, glancing from her indignant form to the dueling fliers to the east of the pass. Phila was steadily making her way towards the border, and he didn't think there would be all that much time until she followed Sumia's path between the mountains. Pegasus Knights were trained to support one another, if he remembered correctly.

"You are going to kill yourself," Lucina warned him as he took up a steadier stance, preparing himself for free-fall. She probably wasn't wrong, he admitted, but Chrom needed their help. "That fall is forty feet, Robin."

"Something like that," he agreed wholeheartedly. She didn't seem to realize his plan didn't stop at 'jump', however.

The doubt in her voice somewhat stung as it always did, but as usual he didn't have time to dwell on it if he wanted his plan to have any hope of succeeding. And even then, he had to consider the fact that he was still probably going to go splat, and not even plot armor would protect him from a forty-foot plummet to the ground. Experience suggested it did not prevent fall damage.

If he was going to jump on the chance that he would survive, he really wasn't all that fond of trying to convince someone that didn't have faith in him to jump with him… he had screwed enough people over.

"Then don't jump," he said, cracking his knuckles and speaking with more bravado than he felt. He was going to need to at least _seem_ badass if he wanted to _do_ something badass. "I'm about to throw myself off of a cliff, Luce; because the people I've been stalking through time and space are in trouble and I can _help_." It sounded a lot more stupid out loud, but it was a bit too late to back out now. "If you aren't coming, then I'll go alone."

Lucina muttered something under her breath that he didn't quite catch, but he didn't think to ask as his eyes zeroed in on Phila and her pursuer.

The two were now speeding through the air towards the pass in a zigzagging pattern, and every muscle in his body tensed as they came ever closer by the second. He didn't think there was all that much time left before they bolted through, and he didn't think he was going to get another shot…

"If there is no other way," Lucina sighed resignedly, adjusting her mask again out of habit. Inside, he felt somewhat unethical for convincing her to throw herself off of the cliff with him, but at the same time he didn't think there was any talking her out of it after mentioning her father. "Then on your mark, I will follow. Please don't get us killed."

Robin heard her shifting into position, but his own focus was locked completely on the wyvern tailing Phila's pegasus. In his head, he was making various estimations as to where they would go and when they would pass. If they were too far from the ledge, this wasn't going to work out for him, and if they were swinging their weapons at the wrong angles, it wasn't going to work out for him.

If he so much as fumbled, this wasn't going to work out for him.

"I'd like to apologize once again for destroying the world," he told her offhandedly, counting down in his head. "I made a mistake."

"This isn't very encouraging."

"It bears repeating."

The dogfighting fliers were now very close, and he could hear the beating of wings and shifting of armors clearly over the clashing combatants below. Phila's head seemed to cock momentarily in their direction, and he could see her tense as she likely spotted them perched on the ledge like watchers in the wings. He waved.

"... Ready?" he didn't wait for an answer as his own muscles went rigid, coiling up like a spring.

"You're insane," she repeated suddenly, and he could hear her breath catch in her throat. She had figured out what his plan was - which was good, because otherwise he would have had to squander his burst of courage explaining it. "You are absolutely insane."

"Oh yeah." He nodded.

Logically, now was the time to call it off as the pegasus and the wyvern sped through the passage like Nascar Racers, but their boots were already leaving the ground in a spray of rubble as his ears popped loudly.

 **O**

 **R** obin's attention was already being turned unto to more threatening targets, such as the closing in brigands that the other Shepherds were engaging, when suddenly the knight rose back up to his feet slowly, and she could hear his joints creaking as his legs straightened.

" _Holy crap_ ," she cursed as the looming figure stretched like some sort of bruiser, arcs of residual lightning dancing across his plates harmlessly. He didn't look any worse for wear, and that really lent weight to how absolutely useless the Shepherds' funding was. "It didn't work!"

The arena-like clearing at the foot of the pass was quickly being filled with the sounds of battle and ringing steels, and she counted almost a dozen enemy brigands locked in combat with her allies. The six of them, as far as she could tell, were obviously outnumbered.

No matter how skilled they were, the enemy was almost certainly going to win if they stuck around. The Border Pass looked like a goddamn death-trap, and there was no telling how many more brigands waited in the forts above.

"Chrom!" she said, her voice carrying over the din of the heating up battle. Already she was taking aim at the black knight again, her fingers charged once more. "We should retreat before this gets out of hand! We're outnumbered as it is; we don't need more trouble in the form of reinforcements!"

"These dastards were ready for a fight," he shouted back, swinging his Falchion and catching one of his opponents across the cheek before blocking a strike of retaliation from the other with a metallic ring. "We've got no other option but to give them one, Robin. They'll stab us in the back the second we turn to flee!"

She didn't like it, but there was truth to his words. Stahl had delivered news from the front of the convoy, describing the conspicuously hidden soldiers that waited over the rocky ridges. They were well boxed in, and whether they turned to run or backed away fighting, they would be crushed between the two forces.

Much to her annoyance, the amnesiac tactician concluded that she had been outplayed.

"We've got to cut a path backwards," she realized abruptly, already thinking about complex things such as troop positioning, crit chances, and support ranks. Each would play no small role in their survival. Firing one last bolt of lightning at the slowly approaching knight, she turned to look over her shoulder at Emmeryn's carriage. Frederick had circled around on his own accord, and was already dutifully guarding its rear. "Fred-man!" Frederick's forehead wrinkled in a disapproving line matched only by his frown, but he said nothing as he waited for orders patiently. "Take Vaike and… uh…" she snapped her fingers, pointing randomly to the right. "Kellam?"

"I'm actually over here," a voice called from her left side.

"Take Vaike and Kellam and clear a path for the carriage," she ordered again as the carriage began to slowly turn around, the coachman struggling to navigate the tight space with his horses. "We'll keep them back from this side!"

"'Teach'll keep 'em safe," Vaike exclaimed as he broke from their sad excuse of a front line and ran to join Frederick and Kellam. "Don't worry 'bout a thing, Robin!"

"Keep them safe Frederick," she said, earning a cry of protest from the shirtless man.

"Better not forget about me again, Robin," Sully snarled as her horse leapt backwards while she stabbed forwards with her lance, running a careless swordsman through via the breaks in his armor. The warning sounded more like a threat… "Just tell me which of these idiots to stab."

"You and Stahl should keep them at a distance while Chrom covers any openings you guys leave," she told them, "We need to get out of here, not make a body count."

Sully gave a huff, but nodded regardless as her and Stahl took up positions at the front of the cart. Most of their enemies were wielding short-ranged weapons, and the red and green cavaliers would do a fine job at keeping them at bay with Chrom plugging the holes. Robin doubted that Sully cared, as she didn't seem like the strategic type, but at least she trusted her enough to follow her orders.

"Robin - the knight!"

Robin snapped her focus back to the lumbering figure in the black armor, clearing her mind once again and remembering the situation that they were in. He had continued to move whilst she had been giving her orders (she didn't think that the enemy was allowed to do that) and had closed over half of the distance between them in just a few seconds.

How had he moved so quickly…?

"Right," she nodded to show that she had recognized the threat, her finger-thunder alighting again as she retook aim. The shifting enemy ranks would normally have made it tough to get a bead on the large man, but they didn't seem too eager to get in the way of her magic. _"Thunder!"_

Another blast ripped through the air from her fingertips, brilliant yellow energy shining like gold as it streaked through the air towards the knight before it came too close to the group.

To her horror, however, this bolt veered off mid-air, breaking from its dictated path and arcing into the wicked blade that the menacing figure held loosely in one hand like a lightning rod.

Sparks danced across the edge of the sword as it glowed with a new power.

"Oh shit," was all she managed in response as he lifted the sword, pointing its bolt-like tip towards Chrom. She had seen a weapon just like this before - in Regna Ferox.

"Robin?" Chrom sounded uncertain as he looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows furrowing, "What did you just do-"

" _Oh shit!"_ she repeated, louder this time as her eyes widened. " _Lightning sword!"_

At her call Chrom had begun to turn back to face his opponent again, but by then a jagged bolt of thunder was already flying towards him faster than lightning strikes. The prince only had a moment to make a surprised grunt before the electricity sank into his chest and threw him backwards with a cry.

"A knight with magic?" she heard Stahl murmur to himself while several of the enemy brigands backed away from the convoy for fear of being blasted by friendly fire from the aforementioned knight. "Oh come on."

"Chrom!" Robin said, jogging forwards and crouching down beside the fried swordsman.

His hair was completely upset and falling down over his eyes, and leftover arcs of lightning danced across his face with quiet crackles as wisps of smoke rose from his singed chest. As she examined the seared hole in his clothing, she conceded that maybe he would look into buying a shirt with two sleeves now that his old one was ruined.

All the same, while maybe stunned, he didn't look dead. She thought she could hear soft breathing, though it was difficult to make out over the sound of their impending doom.

Stahl was right. A knight with magic was bullshit - absolute bullshit. She had never seen anything like it. A melee unit that could also use magic was completely unheard of. The very thought of someone so incredibly overpowered that they were able to use both a sword and a tome filled her with disgust and loathing.

That was _her_ schtick.

Glaring back up at the knight, she frowned as she realized that he had stopped his march.

 _Do not hesitate_

The graceful black helmet that concealed his facial features was bowed, and the lightning that danced across his unique sword was flickering on and off like a candle in a moderate breeze.

 _Stand and deliver, you fool! Slay the Ylisseans!"_

Robin forced back a surge of nausea as the voice carried over the pass, bouncing off of the walls. It was just like the one from her dream. Her hand clenched into a fist as it raced with a new burst of thunder, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to give a series of salutes.

And then relaxed.

The chains of lightning that were previously tied to her hand dissipated and broke away from her now loosened digits, vanishing strand by strand. It wasn't talking to her…

It was listening.

 **O**

 **Bloody hell.**

 **I've been working on this for some time now, and I can't even remember if I ever considered it non-publish worthy.**

 **And then I looked at how long it was and thought "** _ **Fuggedaboutit**_ **!" because I'm too lazy to start over.**

 **Basically in other news, I've started making chapters longer in exchange for releasing them less. Don't ask me why - I really don't have a fucking clue.**

 **Hopefully, I'll get faster and be able to release at least two per month. But I've been busy.**

 **If you notice any errors, feel free to point them out. Such a long chapter means I'm probably guaranteed to miss something.**

 _ **Ciao.**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Fire Emblem: Awakening -** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter XII**

 **No Pawn**

 _ **Not today – not your pawn.**_

 **O**

 _Robin rolled his eyes as he followed his friend, their boots settling into the golden field with a dry rustle to accompany each step. The wind was sweeping through the dawn and over the tall grass, shifting their hair and washing over his face in a cool wave._

 _Her eyes when she looked over her shoulder to see if he was indeed following were best described as distant – serious as usual, but unfocused, like she had a lot to think about._

" _Care to tell me where we're going?" he asked, watching the sun slowly dip towards the horizon. "We shouldn't go off on our own so close to sundown. No telling how near Plegian forces are."_

" _This looks like it will be a good spot," she said, stopping suddenly. The other Shepherds were well past the tree line that they had followed along, and Robin could only see the smoke of fires just peeking over the top of the forestry._

 _His eyes wandered from the trees to the field, to the sun, to the sky._

" _This is the middle of nowhere," he observed._

" _Indeed."_

 _There was an uneasy silence that followed the trade, making him feel restless as he watched her; she didn't turn around to meet his gaze, almost like she was trying to think of what to say. Seconds turned into minutes, and soon the sun had almost disappeared, bathing the entire field in an orange glow and coloring their clothing a muted black._

" _Something you wanted to talk about, Luce?" he finally ventured, fed up with the stiff quiet. "I'd assume it important if you dragged me all the way-..."_

 _He paused, noticing that her arms had begun to tremble._

 **O**

 **T** he knight stood stock-still, his gaze no longer even turned towards the Shepherds. His abrupt stop caused the entire enemy line to falter in their battle cries, and soon murmurs of confusion began to fill the sudden silence.

"The hell's going on?" said Sully, breathing heavily. A fresh kill still hung from the end of her lance, and when she noticed this she gave a grunt and let the brigand drop like a rag doll into the dirt. "Why've we stopped the bloody fight? I wasn't even close to done yet!"

"Is it over?" Stahl wondered, looking more confused than angry as he glanced from Sully to Robin, seeking answers.

Meanwhile, Robin was doing her best to drown everything out through sheer mental willpower, instead straining her ears to catch the raspy whispers that came from all around. It seemed that no one else could hear them, because Sully was looking at her as if she were crazy — which in it's own right was ridiculous, because she knew for a fact that she was the most sane person there.

 _Can't you do anything right, beast?_

The drawling voice was filled with spite, female and oddly familiar. After a moment, she was startled to find that the woman's voice sounded uncannily like her own.

The realization was both confusing and somewhat horrifying — like the end of that one horror movie with the giant spider.

 _Fulfill your destiny — cut down those of the guilty bloodline._

 _Avenge your country…!_

Another familiar voice… this one male...

Before she knew what she was doing, the tactician found her hand falling to the iron sword at her side, shaky fingers wrapping around the leather-bound handle of the weapon and powerless to stop herself.

What was she _doing?!_

While her gaze locked onto the downed Chrom that laid only three or four feet ahead of her, in her peripheral vision she could see the knight's back straightening as did her own.

He too seemed to be dancing to the inaudible music as his sword flared with a shock of purple lightning that leapt from the blade and across the plates of his armor like stepping stones.

" _Chrom_ …" She gave a pained hiss while the sharp rasp of her sword sliding back out of its sheath echoed through the canyon. "Get out of here…!"

The prince, as she expected, made no move from where he laid on the ground. She suspected he would already be dead if it weren't for the two cavaliers that stood ahead to create a triangular formation. He was probably still out cold, if not worse since she had last checked.

"Robin?" Stahl sounded unsure as he looked over his shoulder at her, prompting Sully to do the same. She probably looked insane — but her mouth wasn't even working properly anymore. Panic flashed across his face, "Did something get you?"

Despite all the confusion and openings, neither force moved to capitalize on the other's idleness, the quiet murmurs becoming louder as her tome fell out of her other hand. The knight was stepping forwards in sync with her, as if they were both receiving the exact same commands.

She wished she could do _something_! Say _anything! Literally anything!_

" _Grh...uk!"_

In hindsight, she wondered if perhaps she should have wished for more wishes instead of such an ambiguous request...

Things were about to go to hell. She doubted she was fast enough to kill an enemy soldier with the distance between them, but she was certain that closing the distance between herself and Chrom would be as simple as doing up her velcro boots — especially with the element of surprise on her side. Sully and Stahl would be too slow to stop her, even if they realized her intent.

"I'm not playing fricken' charades with ya, Robin," Sully said sharply, her eyes narrowing. "Just spit it out, why don't ya?"

 _I'm the protagonist here – not riding shotgun!_

As anyone that was watching could probably predict, Robin did not in fact 'spit it out'. There were no brakes on this murder-bus – wasn't even a gods damned steering wheel, she noted with no small amount of agitation.

If she killed Chrom, she was going to feel really bad. That was an understatement, but she was also wrestling with the fact that afterwards, her allies would more than likely slaughter her before being killed in turn; it would be a deadly chain reaction in Plegia's favor.

The knight was also struggling across from her, his heavy boots digging into the dry earth with heavy thuds that lingered in her head, mixing with the whispered, traitorous thoughts.

 _Look-_

 _The Fell-Blood Prince has another half – as I expected. Another pawn to put into play._

At the muted words, her right hand flared up in pain, her veins filling with fire that seared her nerves and almost made her drop the sword. Unfortunately, her fingers were quick to grip even tighter, knuckles going white as she broke into a run towards the prince.

" _N-No-!"_

Stahl looked torn between breaking formation and holding his ground, a confused but worried expression dressing his features that contrasted sharply with his partner's growing annoyance and burning eyes. "Robin!"

 _A head of snowy hair and a piercing bolt of angry thunder shredding armor and leather, tearing into flesh and cauterizing the wound in the process._

 _Blood and blue locks – a whisper of comforting that faded into a weak sigh._

Her boots made a dry shuffling sound as she slid to a stop, sending a spray of sand and a cloud of dust over the downed prince's form, layering him in grime.

He didn't move.

The flames that ripped through her veins blazed a path through her arm, hotter than any fire and more painful than anything she had ever felt before. Meanwhile, a truckload of emotions that didn't belong to her were pounding against her forehead like a drum, playing a rhythm on her skull and leaving dull aches wherever they touched.

Hate. Love. Guilt. Each wave smashed into her like a hammer to the face, twisting her expression. Tears ran tracks down her dusted cheeks, and she forced her eyes shut to try and block out the voices and images that were flashing past her, melding with the scene before her.

" _What did you do?!"_

" _This isn't right… It wasn't supposed to be like this… It was supposed to be different this time!"_

" _I trusted you… I trusted you to keep him safe!"_

 _The prince was the only thing in focus, lying face-down on the ancient brickwork with arcs of lightning dancing around the wound that had penetrated his chest._

He didn't move from the ground – as still as the dead.

 _He had killed him… or was it 'they'?_

And then there was one last emotion that sat in her chest, leaving her as still as a statue. The weapon that had once gleamed so dangerously looked old and worn – harmless.

Hurt. A sense of failure and betrayal mixed into an unpleasant concoction.

Her strength left her.

"...I'm not some pawn of a scripted fate," she finally said, her jaw working for her once again. Her gaze was tired as she turned it, surveying the silent battlefield to make sure the voices could see her – wherever they were. "I don't know what you are, but your predictions are nothing but hot air."

She dropped the sword.

 **O**

 **I** t was in all honesty a fucking miracle that they were alive.

And by that, Robin of course meant that everything had all gone according to plan, just as his tactical brain knew that it would. The odds of them going splat was something he had obviously vastly exaggerated – there was no way he would throw his life away for such a gamble, let alone his friend's life.

Nah. That stuff was behind him.

There was a loud shout that was somewhat muffled by the heavy helmet that he wore as the wyvern rider was bodied from his saddle, his weapon flying off into the sky in one direction as he flew the other. Of course, when Robin said flew, he meant fell – with style, at that.

The ex-tactician let out a grunt as a jarring shock ran through his system, followed by an intense pain in his posterior that could only be described as saddle-sacking, and the wind that tore at his face and hair forced tears from his eyes.

Oh yeah. All according to plan.

To his relief, there was a startled grunt as the mount dipped slightly under the weight of yet another passenger, and soon he could feel a warm figure pressing against the back of his coat.

He had honestly been expecting to have to fight the rider mid-flight upon landing, as that generally did well in describing his luck, but to his surprise the rider hadn't been holding on that tightly – or maybe he just hadn't been expecting to be saddle-jacked by a time-traveling psychopath with a book.

Maybe his luck was turning around…

"Are we dead?" he heard Lucina ask from behind him, her words almost carried away by the wind as she shouted over his shoulder. He wasn't in a position to answer, as bravo aside he was wondering the same gods damned thing, and her serious tone suggested she wasn't joking about wanting an answer. "Did you get us killed yet?!"

"I don't think so," Robin replied confidently, grabbing at the reins and jerking the draconic flier to the side as to not slam into the pass wall. He had taken a few flying lessons from Cherche – like, one. But how hard could it be? "I'm almost certain that I am still a tactical genius… On that note, I'll keep you posted."

The shrieking wind that sped all around the two drowned out most of the sound coming from below, but at the same time it was a tad unnerving that there was no sounds at all.

Almost like the battle had stopped entirely…

 _Things were supposed to be different this time!_

 _Something you wanted to talk to me about, Luce? I'd assume it important if you dragged me all the way-..._

 _Lucina? What's wrong?_

The unwelcome memories filled the unnerving silence, though that really only made things worse as he flicked the reins. Instead of going down, however, the winged lizard almost rammed into the far wall at nearly break-neck speeds.

 _Robin I-... please forgive me._

"Robin?" Lucina said, loudly once again. Her voice overlapped with the echoing apology and making him stiffen for a moment.

He had left this behind. He was going to fix it… why was it coming back now?

"I'm alright," he said, shaking his head and beginning to descend. This time, he was met with much more success as the wyvern dropped its altitude. His voice was shaking as he spoke, however. "I've only flown one of these things a few times before. I'm not going to lie: it's-... not surprising we haven't crashed yet."

Flying in a straight line was pretty easy, but wyverns didn't usually take to new riders very easily – and certainly not in mid flight. It was pure luck that he had any control over it at all without being forced to zap it with magic or something equally tedious.

"Combat has come to a standstill below," she reported, and he mentally punched himself as he realized her mask would probably protect her eyes much better than his hood would his. Not to mention allowing her to see… "The other you and a black knight are having some sort of duel." Her tone became stiff and dangerous, "And my father is in the middle of it."

"Right," he nodded. That couldn't be good, but as for how bad it was… that was yet to be seen. "We should-"

"Aim for the knight."

 _Pardon?_

Her voice was steadier than his, and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that she was serious; at this point, he didn't know why he bothered looking. He already knew, every single time.

Regardless of that, this didn't make it sound like any more of a good idea, as even by his standards it was a really, _really_ bad suggestion that he had to shoot down right off the bat.

"I'm not going to do that," he said, shaking his head as he began to turn their ride. His heart was in his throat, sharing space with his stomach, but he always had time to tell people why they were wrong. "I didn't perform something out of a web show and steal this wyvern so we could blitz to our deaths on it."

"I believe practicality didn't make the leap," she said, causing him to snicker. Sometimes, she really did seem to have learned something from him; his greatest gift to her had been sarcasm, really. "My father is in danger, and you said you were willing to risk your life to save him. Now is your time to prove it, Robin."

Robin grimaced. He hated when his words were used against him – and now more than ever before.

She was right, in the loosest sense of the word; they had just performed the dumbest stunt in his entire career, which spanned across both time and space. Crash-landing a wyvern wasn't the craziest plan he'd heard – so long as they didn't die horribly on impact with the edgy knight.

But that line of thinking didn't make it any less insane.

That was okay with him, he supposed.

"Do you see the knight?" he asked, realizing that the question alone validated how easy it would be to crash into Chrom or something instead. He was basically flying blind, with blurry shapes telling him where the walls were. "Because I'm going to level with you Luce: I can't see shit with this wind in my eyes."

"There."

There was no follow up to her directions.

 **O**

 **T** he last of the foreign sensations faded, and Robin was left standing over a downed Chrom, her sword discarded on the ground beside him.

There was an awkward moment of silence that seemed to suck the air out of the pass, threatening to suffocate everyone and end the fight right there and then as the Plegian brigands watched the sword clatter into the dust. They seemed as surprised as she and the rest of the Shepherds were – almost as if they didn't have a clue what the hell was going on either.

Sully looked disgruntled, staring at the sword as her brain tried to comprehend what the actual fuck had just happened, while Stahl looked directly at the tactician, his expression a mixture of concern and fear; he seemed to have figured it out for himself, to some degree. She was right to have pegged him as adept at reading people.

And the knight?

The knight just stood there, unmoving. His black armor completely hid what was happening within the suit and his own sword had been extinguished of its deadly voltaic payload, leaving it dead-looking.

 _Not bad, Tactician. Emotions… such a human thing. But when it comes to matters of the mind? They seem to become something more – a weapon._

 _But never_ _a shield._

She let out a long-held breath of relief as the cold presences began to fade from her mind, words becoming faint as the wind before eventually disappearing entirely. Over her shoulder, she could see that the carriage had disappeared down the road – hopefully to safety. If there was trouble, she was counting on Frederick and Vaike to take care of it.

And that other guy, too. What's his face.

The emptiness that followed her quick glance around didn't become awkward – not to her, anyways. Instead, she carefully observed the knight that remained stock still, the shadowed crevices of his visor betraying no emotion to her.

"Robin?" Sully said, looking extremely frustrated as she looked from the tactician to the brigands and back again. "Mind telling us what the crap is going on? You'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting my ass-kicking."

Robin didn't reply immediately, her gaze still locked on the enemy commander.

 _He's not supposed to be here… But how do I know that?_

Her head still ached from the traumatic party-bus that had slammed into her, carrying a gaggle of feels, but she could only focus on that thought now, like it had latched on and wouldn't let go.

"We should leave," she finally said, shaking herself out of her gawking. The enemy wasn't all that close – but she still had to get to Maribelle and pick up Chrom. It wasn't like she could just ask for the annoying noble and heroic prince back... at least, she didn't think she could. "But we can't. I don't know what to do…"

The horror of her words settled in her chest like a heavy weight on a chain – _she_ didn't know what to do. The Exalt had been the first priority, but now it was three verses over a dozen; retreat wasn't an option – not with Maribelle and Chrom as the price.

This was a new development…

Robin twisted her mouth into a frown, hastily wiping her tears away on her sleeve and snatching her weapon back up. Now wasn't the time to panic – she couldn't afford to waste any time.

Fortunately for her, improvisation was a specialty of hers.

"Prepare yourselves," she ordered, taking another breath. If they could bring down the knight, the enemy had already shown a reluctance to fight after losing so many. Without him, they would probably lack the order required to properly overrun her own forces. And if she was lucky, her allies might rejoin the fray once securing Emmeryn. "Keep close and go on the defensive. We can't let them take one of our own." She paused, tacking on as an afterthought: "I don't want to lose anyone else."

"Else?" Stahl wondered, giving her an odd look.

Before she could respond, there was a surging crackle that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she realized that the knight had shifted his stance, weapon glowing with power yet again.

"It doesn't matter," she shot back, readying her weapon. She didn't remember when she had lost her tome, but all she seemed to have now was the iron blade in hand. She could take Chrom's weapon, but she got the feeling it wouldn't work out. "Get ready!"

Suddenly, there was a scream as numerous murmurs and shouts of confusion ran through the enemy line like a wildfire, lighting panic wherever it went and causing the line to waver as a whole.

Several hands were pointed skywards, and that was all it took as the line broke, brigands scattering and making for anywhere but there as a piercing shriek sounded out.

Robin's head snapped up to look where they were pointing, but it didn't really matter as the object had basically become a blur at this point – evidently reaching terminal velocity.

"Holy shit!" she shouted, falling backwards onto her rear as the long UFO slammed into the earth in an explosion of dust and a deafening boom. " _What the actual fuck?!"_

Any of the brigands that had been too close to the point of impact were swallowed by the ensuing dust cloud, and a strong breeze followed by a wave of sand slammed into the tactician as the battlefield was enveloped in an earthy storm.

Robin laid there for a moment, dazed and mind moving at a million miles per hour, or the approximate speed of the tactical nuclear bomb that had impacted the bottom of the pass.

All around, she could hear shouts of agony and confusion, enraging her headache and forcing a snarl of pain past her lips as she sat up.

That was one way to break the enemy line… But what was it?

"Stahl?" she called out, concerned as she looked around. The dusty sandstorm surrounded her like fog of war, concealing her surroundings. "Sully?"

For a moment, she thought there would be no reply. None of the groaning were female, and she didn't hear Stahl – though he might just have been dazed like her. Either way, it meant that they were either fine or that they were dead.

And then something emerged from the dust.

 **O**

Lucina regretted her suggestion as she stumbled forwards, trying to force her mind to focus. The world was slightly tilted, and the shoulder that she had slid across the ground on ached like she had been performing an intense workout with only her left arm.

In hindsight, after surviving against such immeasurably small odds one time, trying against even smaller could be seen as absolutely suicidal; she knew that was how she saw it, anyways; jumping off the cliff had been her death-wishful warmup.

She was fairly sure that they hadn't even hit the knight either – it looked more like they were aiming for the general group of brigands that had gathered up, likely not expecting an aerial attack.

Regardless, they had hit _something._ On impact, she had instantly been launched from the mount and sent tumbling across the ground. The wyvern must have lost most of its momentum when it hit the earth, because she hadn't flown into a wall and exploded like she had been expecting to.

She huffed. She was as crazy as Robin – it was the only explanation.

"Speaking of which…" she muttered to herself, looking around. Her Falchion gleamed dangerously in her right hand, casting a golden hue onto the clouds of dust that swirled around her like mist. The princess had seen her ally launched the same as she had been, but after the numerous twists and turns that she had gracefully executed midair, there was no telling which direction he had been thrown in – he might have been less fortunate than she.

For all she knew, he was-...

Lucina paused, her ears twitching.

 _Dead?_

Spinning on instinct, the time traveler raised her weapon, the metal shrieking and a sharp shock running down the blade and through her arm in a shower of sparks that bounced off of her sleeve and tunic.

Almost instantly, the tingling sensation was followed by a surge of pain that wracked her entire body, making her legs shake and her grip on her falchion loosen as her attacker pressed against it harder.

It felt just like the Levin Sword when she had dueled with Robin back at Arena Ferox… had he turned on her after all?

Suddenly, the opposition against her sword let up for a moment, and only her reflexes saved her head from being cleanly cleaved off at the neck as she lifted her blade higher to stop another powerful horizontal strike – and as expected, it was followed by another shock of electricity. As their blades collided, however, the force seemed to somehow be enough to push the swirling clouds around them back, clearing a small area and granting some visibility to the fighters.

Lucina frowned.

Towering over her, an imposing figure in heavy plates of black armor stood with his blade locked against her own, jagged and crackling with electricity just like the Levin Sword. He was easily as tall as Gregor, and even the lengthy blade of his magical weapon looked small in his hand.

" _Future Child…"_ he rasped, his voice a familiar whisper followed by a heart-stopping cackle. Desperately, she squinted up at the visor of the suit, trying to peer through the slits to no avail. _"You've come… to change everything… but you'll change NOTHING."_

Distracted by the voice, Lucina had no hope of seeing the leg coming from the right until it smashed into her side, launching her weapon from her hand and out into the unknown. Realizing her error, the princess was quick to dodge the follow-up, ducking under his weapon and leaping back to safety.

Another that knew of her origins. As Gaius would say, it seemed that they had been 'a dime a dozen' recently.

But unlike the mysterious woman from Ferox, she recognized this voice – it was in that voice came the mocking laugh that haunted some of her many nightmares.

"You…" Her eyes widened like saucers as she watched the suit of armor rise to stand at his full height. The way he stood, with the Levin Sword held loosely in a reverse grip at his side, brought back unpleasant memories. "You-..." Her voice became soft. "You can't be…"

The knight didn't reply.

As the shock faded from her navy blue orbs, it was replaced with restrained fury as they quickly scanned for a weapon. For all her knowledge on how to wield a sword, she had never learned the cruder art of hand to hand combat – not that it would serve her favourably against an armored target anyways.

"What happened to you?" she demanded, taking a quick step backwards as he moved forwards. If she got back into sword range, he was going to burn her to a crisp as he shredded her with his Levin Sword. "Did Grima do this to you?"

In response, the warrior held his blade tip-first towards her, bolts of lightning streaking across the length of the weapon and leaping at the ground with uncontrollable energy and bloodthirst.

She froze, brows raising as she tried to get a read on what he was doing. Only a second or two had passed before she suddenly threw herself to the side, barely avoiding the shearing bolt of lightning that exploded from the end of his sword like a lance.

Regardless of her movement, a stray strand of thunder broke away from the deadly attack and slashed at her back, sending stinging shocks through her clothing and against her flesh as she rolled across the dirt.

" _Die on your stomach… maggot…!"_

Lucina gritted her teeth, scrambling to her feet as the two began to circle one another again like dogs in a pit fight – like primitive beasts.

If she kept this up, he was going to fry her without ever actually landing a true hit. His sword would make up for what he lacked in grace… she had to get it away from him somehow.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Getting close was a trial in itself, and would mean not getting so much as nicked by the thunder-charged armament.

She wished she had the Falchion at her side. Evidently, she wasn't very good at holding on to it – it was left to wonder when that had started.

The black knight said nothing as he circled her, his jerky movements borderline easy, as if he knew that she was all but harmless without her weapon. He thought he could dispose of her when he wished – and he wasn't exactly wrong, either.

She had to think of something…

" _You are powerless alone..."_ The knight stopped, sounding almost eager as his blade flared with energy, seemingly reflecting his emotions. It was like they were connected; she had never seen anything like it, aside from the bond her blood shared with the Falchion. His voice momentarily rose in volume, becoming something akin to what it once was. _"Running away is all you've ever had a choice in… Fleeing from the strong!"_

There was only a slight warning – a shuffle of a greave before he was lunging forwards once again, his cruel sword trailing purple electricity behind it as he brought it down in a heavy overhead strike with both hands.

But it was warning enough.

With a shout, Lucina ducked forwards and caught the weapon at the handle, her fingers wrapping around both the grip and his own cold metal digits.

"I've run away from many things since I first witnessed Grima's rise," she snarled through clenched teeth, trying to pull the sword free from his iron grasp. Her arms trembled as he fought back to do the same from her, tugging in the opposite direction with inhuman strength. "But even alone, I'll never run away from a ghost!"

" _Then a ghost… you will… I need my inhaler…!"_ the knight rasped, his grip on the sword loosening for a moment.

And as the lightning flickered into a blue flame that ran down the length of the now freed blade, he probably realized that a moment was all it took for a skill activation.

 **O**

 **Boo.**

 **Didn't expect to see me coming, huh?**

 **Yeah. Me neither. I dunno, I just got really inspired and managed to get this chapter from one thousand words to almost five thousand in, like, three days.**

 **Haha, fuck you, writer's block!**

 **I've kinda got direction now, and tied shit together a bit. I've been wanting to show this villain off for a while now.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Fire Embelm: Awakening – Again Again**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Let's Spice It Up!**

 _ **It's Lon'bon my dudes!**_

THE GOLDEN SWORD BOUNCED and tumbled across the dry earth erratically, the face of its blade reflecting the glowing scenery of what seemed to be another world, until finally it rolled to a stop against the side of her boot with a sudden and soft thump.

Robin's breath caught in her throat as her eyes quickly shot up from the weapon's abrupt arrival, rising to gaze in the direction from where it had come while her fingers gripped her own sword tightly. Already she was scrambling up off her knees and onto her feet as quickly as she knew how, swinging the iron up from her side and taking on what she hoped at least _looked_ like a defensive stance.

Despite this, nothing came afterwards; no armored owner came for the lost weapon nor did any footsteps draw any nearer to her position as she would have expected – instead, she was left alone in the dust.

When nothing else happened, her set jaw loosened into an annoyed frown that didn't quite reach her eyes, and the tip of her sword dipped slightly – not that she knew exactly what she had hoped to accomplish when the sheath was still half on it.

The tactician was quick to amend this mistake, flicking the leather mould off of the end of the blade and praying that no one had seen.

Meanwhile, the curiously shaped weapon at her feet had made no move to attack her, acting as one could assume a weapon without an owner would, or rather would _not_ act.

"Well hello," she muttered to herself as she picked up the unique sword. It was obviously not your average run-of-the-mill weapon, which usually meant that it did something cool. But when she held it loftily, testing its weight, her brow furrowed. "What's your name?"

The oddly familiar sword didn't answer, but for once Robin actually could place her finger on where she had seen it before; she would have to be a fool not to recognize such an iconic weapon – there was no doubt as to its origins, not when it was so clearly the same as the sword she had seen before.

It was Chrom's Falchion!

"... But if you're here," she said to herself, twisting it in her grip for a moment before stowing it as best she could in the leather sheath at her side. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it left her a hand free. "Then where is Chrom?"

It didn't make sense. He was unconscious a few moments ago; the impact shouldn't have knocked his sword out of his sheath, not to mention around the planet and then from the wrong direction – he had been a short distance in front of her, not to the far right.

Which left the question as to why she had it now.

A flare of blue flames and a warcry from beyond the fog of war was enough to snap her back to the present, prompting her to hastily shake her head free of the sand that had gotten in her ears and reminding her that they were in a desert full of people that wanted to kill them – something she considered somewhat more relevant to the current situation than Chrom's magical sword.

Relevant, but not unusual.

"Sully?" she called out, perhaps unwisely into the unknown. Her sword would serve her as well as it could, but if she got cornered alone… well, pair up was invented for a reason; at low level, she was a sitting duck. "Stahl!"

The only answer that came were grunts of confusion and the wind that whispered in her ears.

She wished she had her tome…

Suddenly, as if in answer to her somewhat less ambiguous request to the Divines, she felt a hot pain in the back of her head as something heavy cracked against the back of her skull with a weighty thump and a flap of pages.

"Oh," was all she said as she blinked, her free hand coming up to feel for blood. "Hey – my tome."

Turning with a somewhat perturbed look on her face, as though offended by the way the gods had fulfilled her wish, she shot a half-hearted glare at whoever had had the odasity to snipe her with her own tome; it was supposed to be the tactician that hurled books at her foes, not just anyone.

Standing a few steps behind her, a familiar hood – for she dare not say 'face' – stared back at her, an amused smirk tugging at the exposed lips as his dark coat was tugged at by the light draft much like her own.

She frowned; she hadn't been expecting to see him again. Or rather, she hadn't been expecting for him to nail her in the back of the head with a book; at this point, she had actually pegged him as a recurring character.

"You know, I'm starting to get the feeling you make entrances like this in poor attempts to steal the spotlight," she told him honestly, stroking her chin despite her obvious lack of a beard. And to be fair, it was easy to see why she thought this; Etzel was trying way too hard, if she did say so herself. "You're not trying to replace me as our resident badass, are you?" She cursed. "Wait, Frederick's our resident badass. Damn."

Alas, it was true – as amazingly heroic and kick-ass as she was, Frederick could clear entire maps on his own – something she was envious of, for sure. With him around, she was forced to settle for second…

"Gerome's our resident badass," Etzel corrected her with a raised finger, as though she should know who that was.

Robin frowned. "Who's Gerome?"

"Never mind that," Etzel said stiffly, shaking his head back and forth much as she had done moments earlier while she plucked her tome off the ground. Now she had a proper weapon, at least. "Marth and I-"

"Marth's here?" Robin perked up, grinning. Marth was even more badass than Frederick – he had the whole 'mysterious warrior' trope going on with him. It was a shame Lissa wasn't here; the young princess was obviously his devoted fan girl. Perhaps she could get a picture to show her. "Where?"

" _Where_ indeed." Etzel nodded, stroking his chin. He didn't sound too worried – Marth could probably take care of himself, she concluded. He continued: "At any rate, Marth and I are here to secure Chrom and deliver him from harm. Where is he?"

Robin snapped her fingers, eyes brightening as she remembered that she was supposed to be looking for Chrom. Stahl and Sully could easily take care of themselves, but Chrom was both unarmed and unconscious; if an enemy found him lying in the dirt, he wouldn't stand a chance. "I have no idea!" she told him, pleased that… her smile faded as she realized that was a bad thing. "I have no idea. That's just great."

Etzel nodded in agreement, folding his arms as she did the same. For a moment, to any onlooker that might have caught a glimpse of them through the dust that swirled through the air as a fog that loomed over the battle, the two would appear almost identical at a first glance – like someone had stood a mirror up across from the tactician.

From the way they stood to the way they stroked their chins and cradled their tomes, it was like looking at a girl and her father, or perhaps older brother. Only the worn fingers and stubbly chin separated one from the other as she drew her own hood up to shield her eyes.

None of this clicked with Robin while she thought, looking around.

Other more important matters occupied her own thoughts as she turned, looking around as if in hopes to find any sign of where the prince was. Last she had seen, he had been a few feet in front of her position, but a few steps and turns later had rendered her lost in the dry sea.

Chrom would probably be lying face down, and the closer to the ground he was the harder he would be to see as the dirt cloud grew thicker.

There had to be a logical way to tackle this problem…

"Well, I guess we could split up," she said at last, shrugging and looking to the hooded mage. His mouth curved into a frown at the suggestion, and for a moment she thought he was about to question her tactical genius. "...Unless you have a better plan?"

Etzel only shook his head, also shrugging. "No. That was my plan as well." He paused, adding: "It is an excellent plan."

"I thought so myself."

As he turned to trek off into the storm again, to fade away like the ghost she had first believed him to be, a thought struck her like the lightning bolt from the Black Knight's bullshit sword and her hand snapped out after him to catch his shoulder. When he turned to face her, she swore she caught a glimpse of a darkly colored eye scanning her face.

It was quickly lost as the wind shifted his hood. "What?" he asked, not moving another inch or trying to pull away. He almost sounded annoyed. "Something wrong?"

It was a good question, and her answer was an unspoken but resounding yes that he seemed to sense, if the frown the formed on his lips was anything to go by.

"How can I trust you to have Chrom's best interests at heart?" she said – no, _demanded_ from him sharply. The image of blood spattering across a familiar pair of gloved hands flashed through her head, a streak of pain following it like the tail of a comet. "I can't know if you'll…" Her confidence wavered for once, "... Stab him, or something if you find him."

The frown seemed to transform into something ugly, pale jaw clenching into an angered expression and then back into something calmer so quickly that she might have thought herself to have imagined it if she didn't know better.

Instead of the bitter frown and clenched jaw, however, Etzel gave her something more akin to a sad smile.

There was an unheard crackle of static and a light jolt ran through her hand, causing him to flinch slightly and her to withdraw her fingers from the shoulder of his ratty coat. The sense of familiarity had returned, and she had to blink away another torrent of images that followed the contact.

"You can," he told her, turning and strolling off into the wall of dust as if he hadn't seen what she had seen. But she knew he had – why didn't he acknowledge it? What kind of darkness was she being kept in? "You do. Don't fuck up, Robin."

And just like that, he was gone.

Her wit returned moments later as the shock of the display wore off, and she was left fumbling for a retort to throw at the already gone mage.

"I-I won't fuck up so long as you… don't… Shit! Etzel, hold up!"

When nothing reemerged from beyond the fog of war, she gave a haughty huff and blew a raspberry in the direction he had gone in, no matter how immature it was. She didn't need to try to be cool – she _was_ cool, damn it!

Despite her questions, she got the feeling she could trust him all the same, tryhard or not. Something about invisible ties would have been apt to apply here, but for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to care when there was work to be done.

If he was off to sweep that side of the battlefield, then she would do her part and check the other side. They didn't have a signal for when they actually located Chrom, which would have made her panic a bit if she thought it would even matter in the end; in actuality she was counting every second she was out of the shitstorm that was her life story.

She doubted it would be long before she ran into trouble of her own, and thought that plot armour would do its best to keep the prince safe. While looking for him couldn't hurt, Robin found that the chances of finding him bore a suspicious resemblance to Lissa's crit rate.

For the most part, zeroes across the board. Except for that one time with the staff… but Robin wasn't counting that one. Lissa's staff was incapable of penetrating the hard membrane that had naturally formed over Vaike's skull due to repeated head trauma, so she might as well have used a spoon instead.

Speaking of Vaike, she wondered how Frederick and his motley crew were doing. It hadn't crossed her mind in the last five minutes or so, and yet the answer remained out of her reach just like the swirling sands that danced around her; intangible.

It wouldn't normally be an apt comparison, but it was the best she could come up with and at that, one that felt so correct. Somewhere deep in her mind, there _was_ an answer, one that she shouldn't be able to possess with anything short of a premonition but still so real.

They had been okay. Or, would be okay. Fuck grammar, she lamented. Grammar? What even was grammar?

Eventually she realized that her racing thoughts had become something akin to rambling, jumping from one topic to another frantically as if in an attempt to distract herself. Since her time in the field, she had learned to filter her thoughts and separate worrying from causes of concern; one was a doting distraction that would overtake her thoughts, and the other was an element to be controlled – a factor to take into account before she acted rashly.

But in her lonely stumbling through the dust, unaware of what awaited beyond her vision, she had at some point stopped discriminating one from the other.

"Bad Robin," she chided, trying to rally her varying spectrum of feelings. "Focus on what you can do, you beautiful lady you."

Emmeryn was out of her reach, and her allies were capable of taking care of themselves. She just needed to focus on finding them – their ranks were scattered; a mistake to be amended as soon as possible. If they remained divided, there was no telling how much worse the situation could get.

She thought her odds of running into a brigand as she wandered aimlessly were somewhat higher than those of her meeting an ally.

Her walk first slowed to a sluggish trudge before eventually coming to a stop entirely. It was at this point that the author was getting pretty fucking tired of describing the sandstorm that had turned his story into a nondescript journal for Robin's thoughts as she explored the seemingly infinite sized canyon.

By now, fifty percent of the word count had begun to consist of the amnesiac tactician stumbling across the desert terrain like a dehydrated Clint Eastwood searching for water in the sandy plains of the west.

"...Fuck, I'm going insane," she realized, her slow trod breaking into a run as she drew strength from somewhere deep down. She had thought she was going to need to pause for rest – she wasn't the most fit soldier in Chrom's army – but suddenly she was speeding across the sands, trying to outrun the haunting voice. " _Chrom!_ Where are you?!"

 **O**

CHROM FELT LIKE HE HAD BEEN HIT by a horse-drawn cart filled with smaller horse-drawn carts. The dust that had settled on his eyelids was sent back into the breeze as his cerulean orbs snapped open with a sharp intake of breath and a rough cough. For a moment he wondered how long he had been out, as it seemed to be considerably darker than when he had last be conscious, before finally deciding that maybe sleep's embrace would be more comforting than the floor that was almost as dry as his throat.

The prince's chest ached something awful, but he still managed to bring himself up onto his hands and knees as another rough cough tore itself free of his lungs. The grime that had coated his skin raised questions he would very much like answers to, but the aching of the muscles below the skin were reminders that his fight wasn't over – he wasn't done yet.

Under his haggard body and coated in just as much dust as he himself was, his Falchion gleamed with an undying golden light that made his eyes hurt. Gold… lightning. The dastard had a lightning sword like Etzel's.

The hole in his tunic was charred at the edges, but the flesh beneath was pinkish in its color, as if it were nothing but an old scar from a time long past. The jagged patterns that streaked out from it traced the searing strands of electricity that had nearly put a hole in him, but now it was only a dull ache.

Gods. Had he really been the first to fall, to a single attack no less? How embarrassing. Through the locks of hair that dangled in front of his eyes like a curtain, the dust that swirled through the air to mask his surroundings suggested that he had missed something important.

Some leader he was, he scoffed. With a snarl of anger, he slammed a fist into the dirt and hauled himself back onto his feet, ignoring the popping of joints that chorused in response to the motion. The ache was only made worse when his abs flexed, and for a few awful seconds they refused to do anything but contract in pain.

It wasn't lethal. The legendary blade he carried would heal his wounds eventually, but he needed to be on his feet _now_!

He couldn't fail his allies like he had in Ferox. He'd dig his own grave before having to bury a friend…

"Come on," he begged his body, drawing his sword up in front of him slowly to inspect the blade. He didn't know why, but a mixture of panic and rage had flooded his system, taking his own health by storm. He had to find them – couldn't just lie down and expect his chance to come another day. "Don't worry! I'm-"

A flicker of motion in the pristine reflection of his blade caught his eye, and for a moment he thought it was one of his friends come to aid him. But the notion was a fleeting one as the shape of an axe distorted in the dead center, shifting into the air as if to touch the sky before it fell like a comet.

The man that held it was tall and burly, with muscles that rippled as he swung it down. Chrom didn't think he would stand a chance in a wrestling match, and the size of his weapon suggested that trying to block the heavy swipe would be a futile effort that might cost him more than a spar.

Hell, he thought, it might cost him his arm.

Left with no choice but to throw himself forwards, he could feel the wide blade ripping into his cape and tearing scraps free, before the soft sound of the metal death being buried into the dirt told him it was his chance to strike back.

He had done it hundreds of times before, both against real enemies and Vaike in sparring matches. It should have been a simple lung and a flash of light to end the battle right then and there; it didn't go that smoothly.

As he turned, he stumbled much further back than he had originally meant to go, almost dropping his sword in the process. Only a tight and deathly grip kept the weapon from leaving his grasp, but now his flesh was sickly and pale when he faced his opponent.

The brigand wasn't alone anymore – he had been joined by two spectral allies that moved when he moved, each struggling to get their own axe out of the three holes that were in front of Chrom. The way they shifted and blurred… it made him dizzy.

"What...?" he said to the brigand, though quietly enough as that the man didn't seem to hear. The way he tilted with the earth with every pull at the axe nearly knocked Chrom to the ground, the world itself turning as if to shake him free from its great back.

"Ylissean scum," the man shouted upon catching Chrom's confused and dazed gaze. Once again he hoisted his axe over his shoulder, the blade popping free of the ground with the crunch of sand grains being ripped from the metal. "Hold still and die like a man!"

Chrom stumbled backwards again as the brigand came at him once more, the axe flashing through the air like a pendulum and threatening to separate the prince's soul from his body. The only reason he found himself unharmed by the attack was that the brigand's almost drunk movements had grace on par with Chrom's own unbalanced shuffling.

"Poison…?" he wondered, holding his free hand to the hole in the leather of his tunic. The pink flesh that peeked out between his fingers was blurry like the rest of his surroundings, but swaths of purple had begun to creep into the rosy tint. "That knight doesn't play fair…!"

The air was knocked from his lungs as his back met a hard surface with unexpected force, and the sharp rocks jabbing into his back told him that he had met one of the walls of the death-bowl he was trapped in.

"Damn it," he huffed, feeling out of breath. Temporary clarity in his vision had revealed purple veins to have begun crawling across his chest, turning the skin it ran under a gloomy violet. The brigand was drawing closer, and the prince could see his yellow and cracked teeth glint in the blonde light of the passage as he grinned at him, axe held easily in both hands.

Chrom didn't think he had the strength to fight the man off, and for a moment the surge of panic from before ran through his system, cold sweat forming on his spine. He wasn't sure if it was from the poison or something else entirely, but it made his stomach do a stylish flippity flop.

He needed to do something. He needed a hero – but they had to be strong, and they had to be fast, and they had to be-

There was a jet of crimson that spattered Chrom's clothing and face, causing his eyes to flicker between shut and open as he tried to shield his face from the sudden shower. The irony taste of blood in his mouth made him gag, and his first thought was that he was abso-fucking-lutely dead.

But when his eyes were forced open and they met those of the brigand, both were filled with confusion and hate and horror. Slowly, both pairs of orbs trailed down to stare at the silvery blade that had pierced the brigand's chest, with tiny streams of blood running down from the sharp tip and along the length of the curved blade.

Slowly, as the blood began to well up from the rims of the wound, there was a sickening _schlick_ and the sword was drawn out of the man's chest as though it had been the weapon's sheath. He stumbled for a moment, eyes glaring back at Chrom, before finally falling.

"Get up, prince," his saviour said, flicking his sword clean of blood with a graceful twirl of the weapon. His eyes were cold, but not those of any enemy Chrom had ever seen, and he realized his hero had arrived.

He was Lon'quer than life.

Chrom didn't remember when his legs had given out, but now he realized he was lying on his rear in the middle of a warzone. He could still see shapes darting through the dust, and this was all it took to spur him back into action.

He tried to say his thanks, but all that came out was a breathless gasp as he used the rough wall to haul himself back to his feet. Lon'qu eyed him with detached curiosity as he did so, before eventually shaking his head and giving Chrom a hand.

Meanwhile, Chrom's thoughts were scattered and still panicked, fogged over by a cloud darker than that which had engulfed the canyon. His eyes were cloudy, looking just as haunted as when he had been told he hadn't made the cut for Smash 4 – cold sweat ran across his flesh like mice dropped into his clothing, but he wasn't out of the game yet.

But what was doing this? When had he been poisoned?! This question was a bit more important now that he was no longer about to be cut in half.

"You don't look well," Lon'qu said, grunting as he pulled the prince up off of the ground. The man was heavier than he looked, and he wasn't exactly helping – though Lon'qu wasn't going to hold him responsible for it when he looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. "I will take you to a healer."

"What are you doing here?" Chrom asked, his voice strained and each word spaced by desperate gasps for air. "Is something wrong in Ylisse?"

Lon'qu shook his head. "No."

Chrom waited, wondering if the man would actually finish the sentence he had begun. Normally an explanation would be offered, as Chrom had subtly hinted at wanting one, but all he received for his hopes was silence.

When it became apparent that all he was going to ever receive was silence, he shook his own head as if to dislodge his pestering questions via his ears before speaking again.

"Thanks…" he rasped, pounding on his chest with his free hand in an attempt to clear out his blocked airways. It still felt like a hand was closing around his insides, trying to squeeze the life out of each organ. "We need to help the others now. I can't leave them behind."

"I will not leave them," Lon'qu said, shifting his weight as to support Chrom's own better while they walked. All around them, the dust had begun to settle against the earth like a blanket, allowing more light to be shone across the battlefield, though without granting better visibility. "I am no coward."

He let out a breath of relief. He wasn't sure he could do it alone in his current state.

 **O**

LON'QU HAD MEANT WHAT HE SAID. He was no coward, and he had no intentions of leaving the prince's allies to whatever fate held in store for them. While they had proven most capable in Ferox, minimizing the casualties as best as anyone could have under the circumstances, the swordsman was getting a feeling. A bad one, a prickling on the back of his neck that was wont to appear when danger had set its eyes on him. Some might have called it a sixth sense, but he called it situational awareness.

To ignore the feeling that har kept him alive for so long would be a foolish mistake to be paid for in blood, and so he walked, supporting Chrom's weight with his shoulder.

He wasn't sure what he thought of the prince personally. He had long since come to hold more than just respect for Basilio in Ferox. As inadvisable as it was, he had come to hold both admiration and a longstanding bond for and with the Khan – they had been friends, and he hadn't ever had many of those.

But now his new employer was like starting from square one – Lon'qu had respect for the man's strength and courage, but no feel for his character. He couldn't predict his actions, and this would not do.

All it took was a glance to know, however, that if he did not work fast he would never come to understand him. Chrom's eyes were fogged over, and purple spots had appeared on the exposed portion of skin in the center of his chest. Lon'qu was no doctor – he had more a talent for making wounds than closing them – but he knew poison when he saw it. Living on the streets would teach you all about underhanded fighting.

Yes… Chrom was poisoned. But from what? What kind of poison, and how could it be cured?

He needed to find a healer that knew the answers to these questions, or the prince would die. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. He had no thoughts on where to start looking – especially when he couldn't even see that far ahead of him.

And with the prince on his shoulder, he was vulnerable. He wouldn't be able to draw his sword as quickly as he normally would, meaning dangerous encounters would have a higher chance of running fatal.

He hated puzzles.

Suddenly, his ears twitched and popped loudly, his eyes widening a fraction while his hand dropped to the sheath of his sword. He was right handed, but his left arm was almost just as strong as his favoured one. A boot slid back to brace himself and provide balance as he drew the silvery scythe from its sheath in a flash of gleaming lightning-like speed. The edge whistled through the air, and for a moment it met resistance, before the green blade of wind gave way and was cleaved into two pieces that battered the ground on either side of him.

Up ahead, the magic blade had dragged a tailwind behind it, pulling a streak of thick dust into a beam to trail behind it. The swordsman could hear coughing as he flipped his Killing Edge out of its reverse grip to point the tip in the direction the spell had come from.

"Show yourself," he ordered, swiping the flat of the blade from left to right as to clear some of the air between him and his mystery attacker. "Or you will die faceless."

Chrom shifted on his shoulder, letting out a quiet grunt that further showed how his strength was being sapped. Lon'qu didn't have time to play games…! His comrade would die without the treatment he needed.

"Wait, wait," a young and pubescent voice called out frantically through the dust, and soon a shadowy silhouette rushed out into the open to reveal a young face that matched the voice. "Don't kill me!"

His floppy hat was off-kilter and looked to be on the verge of falling off his head, but the boy somehow righted it with a quick puff from between his lips. His eyes were wild, but something about them made Lon'qu hesitate – he would have killed the child if not for the desperate look in them.

It wasn't weakness he saw, however. Something else…

"Speak fast," the swordsman said, lowering the tip so that it was leveled with the youth's throat. Chrom was stirring further, mumbling something intelligible, but Lon'qu paid him no mind.

The boy was breathing heavily and his tome looked to be held loosely enough for Lon'qu to take it with a swipe from the back end of his blade but he waited instead, interested in hearing what the young mage had to say.

"I'm Ricken," he gasped, doubled over and drinking in the polluted air greedily, as if someone had tried to drown him. Lon'qu knew the feeling; he wasn't a fan of the hot and arid air either. The kid's eyes trailed up his form, lingering on his sword sheath momentarily before properly settling on Chrom's lolled head. "And you're Lon'qu, right? The man with the strange blade and the scary eyes!"

Lon'qu couldn't attest to such a description, his eyes narrowing comedically as his lips turned from a wary frown into a perturbed one. He had never heard his sword described as strange before – only as sharp, quick, and lethal. "Yes," he said regardless of his thoughts, "I am. Are you lost?"

"Wh-what…?" Ricken straightened up, his fingers closing more tightly on the binding of his tome. "No! I'm a Shepherd!"

"You are a child," Lon'qu said.

"And a Shepherd! ... I mean, no. I'm not a child!"

"I don't have time for this," said Lon'qu, resheathing his sword as he decided the child posed no threat to him. He wouldn't be able to help the boy until he found Chrom's healer, but there was no point in saying it. If the kid wanted to live, he would find his own way out – Lon'qu meanwhile, had no intentions of leaving yet. There had to be a healer somewhere… "Do not follow me."

When he made to push past Ricken, the young mage relocated to stand in his path, head tilted at an angle that made his hat's placement appear almost miraculous, as though it were defying gravity for its master.

He stopped, glaring down at the boy.

"What's wrong with Chrom?" Ricken asked, peering up at the now almost unconscious warrior. "Is he hurt?"

"Poisoned." Lon'qu nodded, pushing the boy aside with minimal roughness. "I must find a healer. Find your way home, boy."

"Hold on!"

Lon'qu didn't stop.

"I need your help finding my friend!"

Lon'qu almost stopped.

"She's a healer!"

Lon'qu stopped.

 **O**

 **I fucking hate myself.**

 **This took so long because I tried to finish the Pass scene in one chapter. It's the length of two chapters now.**

 **So I'll split it in two and upload them both as to keep your eyes from being strained – one today and one on Sunday.**

 **Sorry for the long wait. I've had things going on in my life. Nothing bad, per say. Just tedious.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me – your support is half of what drives me!**

 **I'll never be able to look at Chrom the same again - not without thinking of his easter skin in Heroes...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Fire Emblem: Awakening –** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter XIV**

 **In Which He Returns**

 _ **I'm Back, Bitches**_

BLUE FLAMES LEAPT THROUGH THE AIR HUNGRILY, devouring oxygen and sucking the very air out of her lungs in the process. The heat didn't burn her, but it burned what she breathed and robbed her of her breath in the process as the world became an azure blaze of brilliant flames that left her seeing stars. The power that raced through her fingers had left oceanic embers sticking to her clothes and exposed skin, and a panic grabbed at her mind for a moment as oxygen became a commodity.

" _Filthy…_ dog!" the knight screamed in an ear piercingly high shriek that almost popped her eardrums while he stumbled away from her. His armor hadn't been spared as her own had, and the metal was glowing red-hot from the heat of the fire. The Levin Sword, for that was what she had come to know the weapon he wielded as, rolled across the dirt with metal lit up like a brand, disappearing into the fire that had enveloped her state of mind and physical presence. " _I will… end you, and all you… hold dear!"_

Lucina managed to calm her mind as she carefully let out a breath, replacing the stale oxygen in her lungs with the thinner but still breathable air that slipped through the all-consuming flames that even splashed across the knight's platemail. Her cerulean orbs zeroed in on his back as he stumbled away, but she held her ground instead of trying to take advantage of his weakness; without a sword, she couldn't even touch him without burning the skin off of her hands or feet. Instead she took a few seconds to appreciate the chaos she had caused on their miniature battlefield, where sky-blue fire had stormed the clear spot in the dust to replace the cloud with a new form of visual obstruction. She had never been able to do anything like this before - her father had, or rather would, but she had found that she was unable to replicate his power.

But now the energies that swathed the sky told her she must have figured it out at some point. The Divine Dragon's gift to the exalted bloodline spoke louder than the clash of steel on steel, swallowing her enemies with the fire of Aether.

Lucina was pleased. But now what?

"Speak now," she shouted after him, rising out of her dazed crouch and following the hissing monster of a man. She hadn't ever liked the man that existed prior to the beast that stood before her, but now her disgust was magnified as it gave inhuman whimpers in retreat. "Tell me what did this to you, before I turn you to ash!"

The truth was she wasn't sure if she could do it again; the vast wave of heat that had come from her skin and mind had left her feeling somewhat drained, and she doubted the power would come again at her call again so soon. But she didn't think he knew that, so as far as she was concerned it might as well have been a threat she could back up.

Suddenly the Black Knight reared back towards her, his heavy armor clanking while he lunged with a sweeping red-hot gauntlet meant to take her out of existence. Fortunately, she had been expecting this reaction and easily stepped backwards away from it and its follow-up. Her cape had been caught in the wind and bits of it were lit ablaze as they brushed against the plates of his suit.

"I suppose this means you aren't going to tell me," she concluded, dancing away from his reaching grasp. The heat had made him sluggish in his movements, and it was almost trivial to avoid his slow and heavily telegraphed attacks. The problem was she couldn't hurt him either - it was like all the fire had done was annoy him. What did they put into this freak for him to not fear fire or pain or death? It must have been Grima's work… but she needed confirmation. "My father did once say actions speak louder than words. For him, I will _take_ the answer from you!"

The gleam of metal had caught her eye once more, and with a swift darting movement she slipped under the knight's guard and rolled away from the unbalanced kick he threw after her, scrambling across the dry and cracked earth towards the edge of their battlefield. If she couldn't hurt him with her bare hands or Aether, then she would let her blade do the talking. Even if it wasn't exactly her sword, a sword was still a sword and would cut so long as it had a sharp edge and its wielder a sharper mind.

Before she could reach the Levin Sword that poked out from the ring of dust that surrounded the storm of fire they fought in, her ankle lit up in blazing hot pain that tore an involuntary scream from her lips, her other leg giving out like jelly and causing her to drop to a knee.

Behind her, the molten metal of the black iron gauntlet had wrapped itself around her calf like a vice, the glowing fingers gripping the leather and burning into it to sear her flesh. Beneath she could see the skin blistering at his touch; he was going to tear it off if she didn't do something about it quickly.

Clenching her teeth as to not bite off her tongue in the process, Lucina flipped onto her back in a shower of dust and earth with a slashing movement of her free leg, the remaining leather boot whipping around like a blade in its own right and smashing into the side of her opponent's helmet. When he didn't relinquish his vengeful grip, she bit back another scream and instead slammed the bottom of her boot into the visor of the helm, once and then twice and then more times than she could count, each motion bringing her knee up fluidly then bringing her foot down savagely with a grunt until eventually he let go.

" _Can you feel the heat, coward?"_ the knight rasped as he crawled after her. She ignored him as she in turn backpedaled, pressing her hands to her ankles in an attempt to stifle the almost blinding pain that surged up through the nerves of her leg. She wasn't sure if she would need it treated with posthaste; the fire had cauterized the wound, and may very well have burned the disease out of it as well. She supposed the saying went 'Small Miracles. Good.', or something similar. _"This is… a taste of the suffering… to come…"_

Lucina spat a curse at him as she flipped over onto her front and pushed herself back to her feet with her good leg. The Levin Sword wasn't far now, and she could now see some of the blade exposed from the clearing dust that had swallowed it.

But what about when she reached it? If she couldn't kill him by cooking him inside of his own armor, what hope did she have of piercing the suit with a sword? The realization almost made her stop in her limpy tracks as she made for it. Could she actually even kill him at all?

Finally she reached the sword, wasting no time in swiping it out of the dirt and brandishing it in the direction of the knight.

To her surprise, however, the Black Knight was now standing at the edge of the battlefield, almost hidden in the dust if it weren't for his armor lighting him up like a campfire. Bits of it had begun to cool now, and to her horror he truly didn't look any worse for wear. If he cooled off completely, she wasn't sure what she could do to put him down for good.

" _I don't have… time to play with beasts…"_ the Knight said, giving her the finger. _"This isn't over, Future Child."_

Before she could even try to close the distance between them, what with her injured leg slowing her down, the knight stepped backwards and vanished into the dust storm, his extended finger the last to disappear from sight.

"Wait, damn it!" she ordered after the knight, trying to stand upright again only to drop back into a hunched over position. Her blood was still pumping, but the adrenaline of battle was already wearing off and her leg had begun to throb very quickly. She didn't want to see what had become of her ankle. If the smell of burned flesh and seared leather was anything to go by, she was going to need a very good doctor relatively soon. "I'm not finished with you!"

Alas, her calls were for nothing as the menacing suit of armor did not return. The dark aura that had washed over the clearing vanished with him, and she was left alone on one knee with racing thoughts and a pounding heart.

 _No!_

She pounded her fist into the dust with an angry growl and hauled herself back to her feet, this time being more careful to favour her good leg. It had been a dangerous battle and she wasn't sure if she could even win it, but she had to catch up with him! This was her first opportunity to change the future for the better!

Though she limped as she did so, the princess reached up and cast her mask aside, stumbling after the burns and messy footprints that had been tracked across the sand. She almost tripped as she did so and only by leaning on the Levin Sword did she reclaim her balance.

"Woah woah woah!" She became aware of arms wrapping under her own and hauling her to her feet. Lucina struggled against them for a moment, momentarily unable to even register the words of comfort that were being offered to her as some of the pressure was taken off of her damaged leg. As hard as she fought the grip felt like iron and her body like lead, and she eventually gave up trying to fight off her captor. "-calm down," the voice came back, now sounding somewhat alarmed and muffled. "You're killing me Marth!"

She didn't respond immediately. Dimly she was aware of her surroundings as she was brought back to her feet and propped up against someone, but most of her attention was on her own breathing. Every moment she spent here was a moment the knight had to get further away, but her desperate attempt to take wing after him had fled and left her feeling weaker than ever. For a couple of seconds or maybe minutes, she had performed the act of what Robin often referred to as 'Losing your shit'.

Finally she spoke with a scratchy voice, her throat suddenly dry as the desert around her. "Robin?"

Lucina straightened up a bit, trying to regain focus as the awful haze and pounding in her ears faded. Now she was aware of the dusty smell of tomes that had long ago began to stick to the tactician's old coat, and for one fleeting moment it reminded her of when things didn't suck. She could almost see Chrom and Sumia trying to play a game of chess after board-jacking the game from Robin and Virion. It had been a long game, as each turn had taken each party at least two minutes to decide on a move if not more, but ultimately Chrom had come out victorious.

 _Don't pass out._

"Marth?" Robin said, and it was with a start that 'Marth' realized that she wasn't speaking to her world's Robin but rather his female counterpart, who was looking rather alarmed as she let out several quick breaths. It seemed her struggling had taken the wind out of both of them, Lucina wagered. However, the tactician's eyes were wide as a cool wind swept over Lucina's face and brushed the hair from her eyes with vental fingers, and she soon found that her mask was missing from its usual place on her face. "You're a girl?!"

"Woman," Lucina said, though somewhat surprised. She had never made any attempt to mask her gender – this time not even bothering with her hair ties – and thus the fact that it had been considered 'concealed' in the first place was something she found disturbing, and rightly so. "I'm a… wait, did you not know this before? A mask does not-"

"Yo Chrom! Marth's a chick!" Robin called over her shoulder into the dust, and when she received no reply she broke down into hysterical laughter. "Holy shit, Lissa's gonna flip! I need to tell everyone about this!"

"Calm down," Lucina ordered, leaning on her shoulder as she felt her remaining strength ebb away. "It is good to see you are unharmed. Why are you here?"

"I got separated from the others," she explained as she helped the now unmasked woman hobble into directions unknown. She hadn't found Chrom, but to her it didn't really matter anymore. Lucina was guessing that her wounds looked somewhat more serious than she originally assumed, as every now and then the tactician would look at her nervously, umber orbs flickering down to the damaged remnants of her leg in a fashion not unlike that of her own world's Robin. She supposed they had to be similar in at least some respects. "When the god of dickery rained down some sort of deadly projectile onto the battlefield."

"Haaah…" she huffed, closing her eyes for a second as the blistered skin of her leg let out a crack. She really needed a doctor. "I wonder what could have happened there."

"I've honestly got no fucking clue. Best explanation I've come up with was 'aliens'."

"I don't suppose you've seen Chrom since," she said, not getting her hopes up. Oh she knew the deal. "Have you?"

Robin shook her head, a lethal pigtail whipping out and smacking the swordswoman in the face as she did so. Lucina both noted that her Robin might see this as karmatic retribution and that the woman's hair was as hard as steel, nipping her in the ear with a stingy swipe. "Nope. I found his sword, but nothing else. It's kind of crazy when you think about it - how did we all get so separated like this? The pass looked a lot smaller earlier, but now it's fucking h-"

Lucina had stopped listening at the mention of the Falchion, eyes sweeping over her ally's belt before settling on the, er, uniquely sheathed blade at her side. Crafted seemingly out of gold with a soft, leather-wrapped grip, the familiar blade bore wear and tear from a war that never was - not on this world in this time. Not yet. It was interesting that the tactician hadn't noticed the perpetual disrepair that the sword was in.

Lucina knew for a fact, however, that this was not Chrom's sword.

"I need this," was all she said as she reached past Robin and removed the sword from where it had been jammed into the sheath. Robin tensed for a moment as the weapon swung around before visibly relaxing as it was resheathed in one fluid motion.

"But-" Robin began to protest, though all too late as she raised a finger. When Lucina looked at her however, the words died in her throat. "I'm, ah, sure Chrom wouldn't mind."

The princess didn't have the strength to respond, feeling the pain in her body fade as it resonated with the Falchion. She turned her head away from the tactician, covering her eye with her free hand and concealing the glowing brand with her palm. If there was any infection in her wounds, it would be purged. But in her condition, she thought that might be all the legendary sword could do.

"We need to keep moving," she said, trying to speed up her hobble. The blade at her side numbed the pain, and the effects were only magnified as she dropped her hand away from her eye and down to rest on the pommel. "It's not safe here; the Shepherds must retreat to Ylisstol as soon as possible." She grimaced as she said it, not looking forward to what would come in a small handful of days. They needed to be at full strength to stand where the Exalt once fell. "Have you encountered no one aside from myself?"

"Etzel and I ran into each other," Robin told her as she matched her speed to comply with her wishes. "We spread out to look for Chrom, but I found you instead." Robin frowned, as though just realizing something quite peculiar for the first time. "What is it with you two and Chrom - is it some sort of dramatic love-triangle? Why don't _I_ get a harem?" She cursed. "Curse you, lack of multiple S-Supports on one save!"

"There is no triangle," Lucina said quickly, trying to purge the disturbing thought of her and Robin both striving to earn Chrom's hand in marriage by travelling across both time and space. It sounded like one of her mother's books – minus the incestuos implications, of course. Mostly. She thought for a moment. "Etzel and I share a common interest in Chrom's wellbeing." The world did too, but that seemed unimportant at the time. She said carefully: "We come from far away lands, on a mission to protect Ylisse from a great threat. That is all I may say ab-"

"-Shit!" Robin shouted suddenly, startling Lucina. "I forgot about Maribelle!" The tactician looked shocked and her voice dropped to a whisper, "How could I forget about Maribelle…?"

 **O**

ROBIN HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT MARIBELLE. He wasn't quite sure how, but he had found a way. In all of his on-the-fly planning, he hadn't taken the snippy noble into consideration even once – he had honestly completely forgot that she was why they had come here in the first place once upon a time – back when losing a single ally seemed like the worst thing that could happen to them.

Fortunately for him, she had been so kind as to remind him.

The shifting of clumsy movements caused his ears to twitch like those of a taguel, and in an instant his reflexes kicked in and he was spinning to face the possible threat that was creeping up on him. Only quick thinking and some lucky skill ups saved him from being clocked in the head by the staff that was being brought down upon him like a mace, instead managing to block the blow with his forearm.

"You slow fools underestimated the strength of a noble!" a familiar voice screamed as he blocked another blow with the crack of wood. "Prepare to pay for that mistake with both your life and the remaining shreds of your dignity! _I'm about to kill you with a fucking healing staff, you bloody troglodyte!"_

Robin sighed as he caught the staff by the base, the sound of his leather glove closing around the wooden shaft of the bludgeoning weapon signifying the end of the assault on his remaining shreds of dignity.

Maribelle's wild eyes widened as her hands shook, muscles straining in a battle of wills with the ex-tactician. While Robin would admit that he wasn't the most physically strong member of the Shepherds, really only having enough strength to swing around the hunk of metal that was his Levin Sword (and occasionally the shitty bronze sword he had used back in the day), he would die a terrible and painful death before allowing himself to be overpowered by a healer with an attitude and a big vocabulary.

"Maribelle," he said, "I'm going to let go of this staff – but I don't have time to deal with your superiority complex. If you hit me with it again, I will magic you and you will not like it."

After a brief moment of silence, he released it and to his relief she placed the butt of the tool into the dirt where it belonged, holding it not as a weapon but as a staff was meant to be held. She was still breathing heavily, but otherwise looked unharmed aside from a few scrapes. He was surprised she wasn't dead – he'd have thought the soldiers killed her if he had remembered her at all.

"Are we all good now?" he asked cautiously, hoping she had managed to find her chill and wasn't about to smack him again. He truly had no time for her tomfoolery when there was work to be done and his best friend to be saved. "I need to get back to looking for Chrom."

"You are Etzel, yes? The dark mage I've heard Robin and Chrom speak of." She eyed him warily. "You and the tactician bear a striking resemblance to one another, and I mean for this to be taken as more than my usual disposition of all you lowly commoners looking the same to me. Would you perhaps be her brother?"

Robin grimaced at the speculation. She didn't know the half of it, and presumably never would. "Something like that, perhaps. Either way it be, Chrom is in danger and he is not alone. Have you seen him?"

"I haven't seen anything but filth," she said, "and also the dust storm that has swallowed this hellish hole of a pass." She paused. "You are the filth, for clarification."

"Thank you for clearing that up for me," he said, biting his tongue. She would be of no further use to him, but no matter his personal annoyance towards the woman he knew she had a softer side. It wouldn't do to let a Shepherd die because he didn't like them – well, it probably wouldn't do. "If you wish to get out of here alive, you may do well to follow the filthy tracks I leave. Unless, of course, you believe your staff will protect you against the-"

" _COMING THROUGH."_

Neither of the two had any time to react as a bulky suit of shadowy armor shoved them apart, sending them each tumbling in different directions. Robin had barely registered the barreling black knight before it had passed beyond his sight, vanishing to the dust again.

Not a second had passed before Robin was scrambling to his feet, fumbling for his Nosferatu tome as Maribelle complained loudly.

"I believe you may be right, Sir Etzel. I don't think my healing staff would fare well against such a beast," she mused carefully. "Very well. Lead us away from this-"

"After that knight!" he ordered without a second thought, deciding that Naga had given them a lead after an hour of bullshit. Good – he had been totally lost anyways. "Come on!"

"We're running towards the deathly battle born spellblade?!"

"You get used to it," Robin told her as they began to run towards the aforementioned deathly battle born spellblade. "Try to keep up, follow my orders, and you might just get out of here alive."

He had been forced to tack the 'might' onto his inspiring one-liner, as chasing after an evil knight dressed in black armor usually was bound to lead to an unexpected end and he did not wish to lie to her about their odds of survival being less than one hundred percent. But if it knew where Chrom was, or found him first, the prince of the past likely wouldn't stand a chance against the towering figure that had tossed the ex-tactician aside like a stale loaf of bread.

Unfortunately for the snow-haired time traveler, he had only been running for maybe three minutes before the ground gave way beneath his boots, and a cloud of dust and dirt erupted into the air around him as he tumbled down an uneven patch of earth that might have served as acceptable cover against archers had there been any present.

Fortunately for the snow-haired time traveler however, he had a perfectly good ass to break his fall, and so that was what he landed on, zipping down the slope like the black and purple bullet of the Fell Dragon. Earthy claws streaked his coat and trousers with dirt, until eventually he tumbled to a stop at the bottom, breathing in the unholy combination of O2 and dust heavily.

Robin sat there at the bottom for a moment, thinking about how surprisingly nimble the giant had been to have slipped away as quickly as he had. It was actually rather embarrassing for a full suit of armor to possess more speed and stamina than a man with a book and a coat – and then came the thoughts as to how he would break it to Luce; it was something he was not looking forwards to, especially when he was supposed to be doing his share. Perhaps he could still find Chrom – if they couldn't change what happened at the pass for the better, then the least they could do would stop it from becoming worse.

What a day…

" _Etzel you gutter-born buffoo-"_

Maribelle, who Robin had once again completely forgotten about due to her being awful to him for eighty percent of their time talking to each other in the past causing him to repress most of his memories involving her, added another mark to her 'dicking-on-those-below-her' tally as she tumbled down the slope after him. Due to her rear being far too royal for breaking a fall, it seemed fate had opted to use Robin to cushion her landing, and he felt his bad hip snap back into place as he was crushed by the elegantly descending noble.

Ultimately, she stood up gracefully and dusted herself off, a disgusted look on her face as her landing pad groaned in protest. "What a pig pen." She surveyed the area, no doubt judging every cubic inch of dirt. "How do they live in such squalor?"

"They don't live here, Maribelle," Robin grunted, standing up and noting how much better it felt to move his leg. She hadn't ever been his best healer, but she seemed to know her stuff to some extent – not even Libra had been able to cure his ailment. "We're still on a battleground. Keep an eye out for trouble, if you'd be so kind and generous and whatever."

"If I must. I suppose low-income eyeballs are unsuited for such a task anyways."

Robin ignored her, scooping up his tome and having his own look around. The dust had finally begun to settle, and now he could actually see what the impact had caused – chunks of earth were scattered every which way, with rocks and slabs of stone having fallen from above to give the area a desolate appearance.

He had doubtlessly received points for style, but by god if one of the falling rocks had crushed one of his friends he was going to fight the mountain pass itself, with his bare hands and a load of long withheld, built-up rage.

He wondered if his partner was having better luck than he was.

"Maribelle!" a young voice shouted loudly, causing him to tense up. However, he let out a sigh of relief as a short figure topped with a pointy hat darted out of nowhere like a bolt of blue lightning. Though Maribelle let out a shriek that sounded rehearsed, he felt a smile tug at his lips as Ricken laughed. "Maribelle Maribelle Maribelle!"

"What?!" she demanded, looking uncomfortable as she tried to worm out of the hug. Her height in comparison to the not-quite-a-man's made the scene look rather comedic, and her shrill voice was half-hearted in its anger.

"You're not dead!"

"An astute observation, you tiny street-rat – now get off of me."

Ricken released his hold and stepped back, looking pleased with himself. His tome was holstered snugly in his belt, and he looked alright all things considered – not that Robin had expected anything less, that is. Robin dimmed his smile as the boy turned to look at him, a curious expression on his features. No need to creep the child out – he did want to leave a bad impression in his short time with the Shepherds.

"You're not Robin," Ricken said after a few seconds of scanning the man in the coat. He no doubt had previously mistaken him for the tactician of this world – it seemed people were noticing it more and more as time went on. "Ah, sorry! I'm Ricken!"

"Etzel," Robin offered, bemused by the way the kid's eyes twinkled. "Pleasure to meet you Ricken."

Ricken nodded, turning back to Maribelle and pulling something out from within his cloak. A parasol. He tossed it to her, and to his surprise she caught it with a sharp snap at the air – she apparently hadn't liked having it taken from her. "I'm glad I found you – maybe now Chrom will stop being a bum and let me go on patrols and stuff with him." Robin didn't count on it, but the other Robin would have different thoughts about the boy's utility. "But now I need your help. We found Chrom, but he's hurt and needs a healer." He looked sullen. "He's hurt really badly. I was hoping-"

This time, Robin actually drew his sword, whipping it around towards the new presence that had been silently sneaking up on them. Only the slightest shuffle of a heavy foot had alerted him of the newcomer's arrival, but it had been enough.

Lon'qu stood a couple feet away, and the ex-tactician let his blade dip and the electricity die out as a look of surprise flashed across the swordsman's face. His blade was in its sheath and he was out of attack range, but he knew that the quiet man could draw his weapon and close the distance in the blink of an eye – he was that good.

"You heard me," Lon'qu noted, adjusting the body that was slung over his shoulder like a sack of flower. The surprise was gone from his face now – maybe faded as quickly as it had come, or masked entirely from sight – but it was still in his voice, if not faint. "Not bad."

Robin stowed his sword again as Chrom let out a groan of pain from where he had been hung on Lon'qu's shoulder. There was no blood or visible injury, but sweat dripped down his face as he shifted unconsciously.

He didn't remember Lon'qu ever being at the pass – so why was he here now? It was impossible to tell what had caused this change, as things by this point only barely resembled what they once might have been, had only one person come from the portal in the sky on the night that the world began to unravel.

Regardless, it was good to see the prince alive if nothing else.

"I've had a lot of practice," he said, allowing the folds of his coat to claim the handle of the Levin Sword as Lon'qu approached slowly. Chrom was apparently much heavier than he looked, and Lon'qu appeared to be struggling to carry the man. "But I'd ask that you don't sneak up on me like that."

"Noted," the Feroxi myrmidon grunted as he heaved the prince over his shoulder, laying him out on a relatively flat patch of dirt. Now the ex-tactician could see the extent of damage that had been caused to him, noting the shredded front of his shirt and menacing purple veins that crawled out from the scar in the center of his chest like a bullseye. Lon'qu looked up at Maribelle expectantly, eyes narrowed as usual. "Heal him, woman. I will back away as you do your work."

Maribelle sputtered something that no one present could decipher, clearly caught off guard by the lack of minced or honeyed words. Her eyes were wide and her jaw slack – like she had been shot, and was trying to figure out why. "The- I-... It…" she croaked out, sounding dazed. "What…?"

"I am Lon'qu, of Ferox. Heal your prince," he said again, stepping away from Chrom's limp form. Robin smiled, but it was strained as Chrom twisted in his poisoned dreams. "Or he will die."

Maribelle used her staff to heal Chrom without another word. She didn't seem to know how to react to being bossed around as the swordsman just had, and so she didn't give any reaction at all – she simply did as she was told, uncharacteristically at that.

Seconds turned into minutes, a green stream of light pouring from the crystal orb on the end of her staff and washing over Chrom's body. The prince shook a bit as the spidery lines on his chest receded and the scar was drained of its unhealthy maroon color, until eventually the light faded and he was left still as a corpse.

Eventually, he snored.

"He needs rest now," she murmured weakly as she lowered her staff, looking subdued and broken. She would get over it, Robin mused. "He will not wake for some time."

"That's fine," Robin said, crouching down and trying to pick Chrom up. To absolutely no-one's surprise, his strength was nowhere near high enough to hoist the prince onto his shoulder as Lon'qu had done moments before, and the ex-tactician found it comparable to trying to lift a slab of granite the size of the barracks. Regardless of his odds of success, he tried multiple times over the span of three minutes or so, managing several times to lift the prince's head up, only for it to drop back onto the ground with a thump that made everyone wince. "If I could just… pick him… up," he grunted, "All we need to do is find the others, and then we can get out of -… gods damn it, what have you been _eating_ , Chrom?!"

Lon'qu sighed, unfolding his arms and brushing Robin aside before lifting Chrom back up onto his shoulder with seeming ease, making Robin feel rather emasculated. "Understood."

"No one likes a showoff, Lon'bon," Robin reprimanded the man, though his scolding did not phase the swordsman in the slightest. He was made from tougher stuff – not even jet fuel could melt his spirit, which by extension made him stronger than steel. He was a man of stronger than steel – significantly less catchy, but also more badass. He cracked his knuckles and looked over to Ricken, who would likely be much more talkative than the borderline mute Feroxi warrior that he traveled with, and spoke. "Have you seen the others? Marth, or your allies?"

"Nope. Just Chrom," Ricken said. He scratched his head under his hat and looked around through the thinning dust – about time, Robin thought; it was like the sun had stopped fucking existing and the world was cast into eternal darkness – as if he would spot one of them. "Marth's here? I heard he was, like, super cool. I wanna meet him!"

"You can't until we find him," Robin said as he turned away and began trekking off into the dust as mysteriously as he had when he parted ways with his female counterpart. He looked over his shoulder at them, nudging his hood up a bit with his index finger as casually as one would bump their glasses up on the bridge of their nose. "Follow me if you all wish to live," he said as he walked, "For the knowledge I bear is knowledge of something beyond mortal comprehension. Knowledge that the enemy would slay me where I stood if they knew I possessed it – knowledge-"

He didn't get to finish his speech, and instead collided with something in front of him in the middle of his third repetition of the word knowledge. The breath was beaten from his lungs and he was left winded as he toppled, falling backwards onto his rear with a surprised hiccup that singlehandedly destroyed the point he had been trying to make. The weakness that bled from his hiccup did not scream Leader, and he wondered if they would follow someone else instead – Ricken perhaps. They would follow him to their dooms, he knew grimly, but was distracted by the sudden shock that ran through his bottom when he landed. It was quite jarring, and his tush was still sensitive from the rough slide down the earthy slope earlier.

When he locked eyes with a pair of brown orbs not unlike his own, he did not make the mistake of thinking he was looking in a mirror, for he was much more handsome than her. Actually that was a complete lie – they both looked pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. Regardless he hastily climbed back onto his feet as the other Robin did the same, brushing himself off while she mirrored his actions or perhaps vice versa – who was copying whom, he quickly decided, was semantics.

"Huh." Other Robin looked only mildly surprised as she stroked her chin – something that she would call completely ordinary for a woman to do were she narrating. Since she was not however, Robin only could think that it looked super weird for a female to do when females lacked beards to stroke. Robin too lacked a beard, but theoretically he could grow one, and thus it was completely normal for him to stroke his theoretical beard curiously. "It's you guys. That's, uh, convenient I guess. Maybe we're finally going to start getting lucky?"

"Don't count on it," Marth, or – as Robin knew her – Lucina said, coming to stand beside the tactician with folded arms. Her eyes, which he noticed were now exposed to the light and sight of everyone present, shifted warily around the area like ocean blue spotlights. She walked with a limp, and her leg was shredded and scorched terribly with what he guessed to be third degree burns. He winced, and reflexively went over to lend her a shoulder to lean on. Looked like it hurt like a bitch, and she accepted the support gratefully with a thankful nod. "Fate doesn't owe respect to your hopes or dreams. You must earn it."

"I will fight fate," Other Robin told her. He couldn't tell if she was joking as she looked around, surveying the now one point four times larger group with critical eyes. It was obvious she disapproved of what he assumed to be their glaring flaw – a critical depletion of Frederick Resources that all but guaranteed their defeat in a fair fight. "Now, is everyone alright? Anyone hurt?"

At the question, everyone except Ricken and Maribelle began digging into their clothing and undoing clasps, rolling up sleeves and pant legs to reveal bloodied scrapes of varying sizes. Chaos was immediate, and Maribelle clasped her hands over her ears to block out the complaints of injury that arose from almost every direction. From what Robin could tell, complaints weren't even for serious wounds, and most were just being absolute babies about it; he almost lost his index finger back at the Dragon's Table, when the barrier went up. That being said, he could hardly judge when his neck had an awful cramp and it was taking all his will not to mention it.

Adjusting the warrior on his arm, he used his other shoulder to bump Ricken out of the way and clear a tiny path to Maribelle. Lucina's limp was rather pronounced, and the healer obviously noticed her predicament very quickly, as she tried to look away from the burned mess of skin that was her leg. She didn't have the stomach for being a healer – that was why he didn't bother the first time around. But now she didn't have a choice.

"Maribelle," he said impatiently, causing her eyes to dart back to him from wherever they had wandered. She looked tired, and he felt sympathy for her – he kept forgetting that they weren't soldiers. They hadn't fought through what they would – not yet. But, he realized, they needed to be stronger than ever before. He needed them to be, because two people and a legendary sword couldn't fix a world full of troubles. Not alone. "Marth needs a hand. You wouldn't have enough energy left to stitch one more person together, would you?"

"You don't think healing staves grow on trees, do you?" she asked him, a glint in her eyes as she leaned hard on her staff. The glass orb on the top was beginning to glow, and spiderwebbing cracks spewed green energy from the old twisted wood of the shaft. Robin furrowed his brow, but before he could say anything Lucina let out a soft breath, and he looked down to see her leg beginning to heal as the flesh discoloured and recoloured, the skin tone returning to the normal peachy tone it usually had while fibres of her boot got clear of the surface. He felt a surge of surprise as he looked back to the noble, but grinned a bit as she did."The answer is yes, by the way. Some families have vineyards – mine have something significantly more classy."

"Thank you," Lucina said, taking her weight off of Robin's shoulder. She stumbled a bit as the nerves in the muscles tried to make sense of the magical repairs, but did not fall and regained her balance much faster than most would. It attested to how many times she had undergone such processes – he had been patched up by more than his share of healers over the years, but her number likely trumped his own by double. Like her father, she had a dangerous habit of throwing herself in harm's way for her friends. "We don't have any time to waste-"

Maribelle dropped without another word, and it was so sudden that no one caught her. Her eyes snapped open again when she hit the ground like a sack of flour, and her critical gaze swept over the group judgmentally before closing again with a sharp intake of breath and a claim to a much needed nap.

Other Robin crouched down beside the noble, poking at the body while she drew her hood down. Her ears twitched as she put her head to Maribelle's chest, checking for a heart beat, before she shrugged and stood up again. She turned to the group looking moderately worried, but the way she reacted suggested her experience with Maribelle mirrored his own – it was probably a seven on her shits to give list.

"Lon'qu," Ricken said, and the gynophobe was already trying to get away. "Wait! Please! You're so strong and she's so unconscious, it'd be like you're a knight or something!"

"No."

"Marth," Robin sighed while he massaged his temples, and Lucina was already lugging the unconscious healer over her shoulder. He didn't want to waste any more time in the pass when Gangrel's forces were already bound for Ylisse, and it seemed that Lucina didn't either as she began after the Feroxi swordsman without another word. "Alright, we're heading back to Ylisstol then? Great. About time."

"We need to catch up with that convoy," Other Robin agreed, jogging alongside him as they tried to catch up with the rest of the group. Unfortunately, it seemed like they both had the slowest run speed of the group, and even Ricken was outrunning them. "But what were you talking about with the whole knowledge of whatever thing? I heard some of it, but you didn't finish. You finally going to tell us what's going on?" She looked at him. "Because while I'm not the best to judge it, it be looking like the apocalypse out there."

He chuckled grimly at the observation.

"You certainly have a fantastic eye for detail," he told her narcissistically, grinning a bit as he did so. "I'll fill you all in on the way. We need to get to Ylisstol as soon as possible though, or the planet might explode."

Other Robin didn't looked all that shocked by the news, and his smile faded a bit when he noticed that she was looking at her Mark.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I know."

 **O**

 **Back.**

 **Fuck me, I'd like to issue a formal apology. I've got a lot of people interested in this story and I intended to give frequent updates, but something went wrong and I got, uh, I dunno. Lame. I got bad at writing humor and tried too fucking hard to make this some sort of epic drama – like even I didn't know what I wanted this to be even though I did. I burned out and slowed down.**

 **I'm thinking I'm back now. I found the fun in writing again I think.**

 **Seriously though.**

 **Fuck this stupid Pass.**

 **EDIT**

 **This was supposed to go up like, a week ago at least, but I didn't have internet. Sorry.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Fire Emblem: Awakening - _Again Again_**

 **Chapter XV**

 **Party Time**

 _ **I can't think of something clever for here, I really have to pee sorry**_

When they finally arrived at Ylisstol, they were quite dismayed to find that the city had burned down in their absence. The streets were crowded with rubble and bodies and the air thick with ash, and everyone was dead. No one was alive. Robin cried salty tears into her pillow as they had a funeral for the city, but it only got worse when the giant dragon attacked at the funeral and they all were forced to line up neatly on the opposite side of the screen to take turns attacking it. Maribelle would not stop healing Chrom even though he was unconscious and it was not beneficial to anyone, but Lon'qu had valiantly declared that limits were meant to be broken and slayed it with a single attack anyways. This was all absolutely real, because Robin's life was one big dramatic cringy fanfiction-worthy snowball that, much like most snowballs, lacked any sort of brakes, rhythm or reason. Not even any mechanics that made sense – fuckin' snowballs, how do they work?

Alright, full disclosure; the city was not on fire and no one was dead. Or at least, the city probably wasn't on fire and the idea of everyone in a capital city not being dead was a bit of a coin toss. It was like expecting there to be no crime in Detroit or something, she would compare. She supposed that made Regna Ferox Texas and Plegia Nazi Germany, and once those comparisons got in her head she could not purge them from her brain and she hated herself for drawing them in the first place. It was like looking at a picture of your own father in a Bikini, and as such she would never see the world around her the same way again.

"You okay Robin?" Ricken asked as his horse pulled up beside hers. Every step his steed took jostled his small frame and made him bounce, and his hat being lighter left his head every time, only to land back on his noggin less than a whole second post his rump landing on his horse. He looked concerned and peered into her eyes, his kiddy little orbs reminding her just how much of a little loli boy he was. Oh god, there she went again – she looked away, trying to purge the yaoi from her mind. She was alright with yaoi, of course, but not when it involved Ricken for god's sake – the guy was like, nine, and far too young for smut. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind."

"I don't wanna talk about it," was all she offered him, keeping her eyes set dead ahead. The sky was filled with stars and she was guessing it was almost midnight yet again – the third time the moon would rise. They'd been traveling for three days and hadn't caught up with the convoy due to a combination of the elements and mother nature simply fucking with them via trees fallen over the road. It was a good thing they could magic the trees, but rain could not be stopped with fire. Water beat fire. She swallowed heavily. "You don't even want to know kid. Trust me."

"Not a kid," Ricken said meekly, apparently able to sense her low-key horror, "But I'll take your word for it."

It was a good call.

Robin had been feeling off for the past twenty four hours and her mood was more soured than sun-spurned milk, with her lips twisted into a permanent but quite beautiful all the same grimace and her silky smooth hair disheveled and ratty. Her rear ached terribly from riding bareback, and every step her mount took sent a shock of pain through her tailbone like the Pain dial had been momentarily cranked up to eleven. She wasn't about to complain about the lack of saddles though – not when Lon'bon was still riding up ahead with Chrom slung over his shoulder like an Exalted sack of Potatoes like he didn't even care that the prince was at least two hundred pounds of muscle and lank. She was actually getting the feeling that he really _didn't_ care. About anything. Ever.

Chrom's traveling method was significantly less than ideal, and while riding on a horse without a saddle was uncomfortable she couldn't imagine how bad it must have been to ride on a Feroxi swordsman's shoulder without a saddle. The man was probably going to ache even worse than her ass did when he woke, and at this point she hoped he didn't wake very soon – they did not have a horse for him, and he might be cranky that his shirt was ruined. She knew that she would be cranky if her shirt was ruined.

They had tried to strap the prince onto the side of her horse like a saddle pack, but were met with little success as he simply kept falling off because of gravity. It may have been due to a lack of saddles to properly fix him to, but she suspected it was mostly because Chrom was frankly not a saddle pack, and no good for carrying multiple objects at the same time, such as beach towels and lawn chairs and the like.

Up ahead, the spires of the royal palace poked up over the trees like a tower in the distance, except it was massive and screamed "Rob me!". Lights were visible even at the distance that they viewed it from, golden beams of flame born illumination stabbing through the night beyond the windows that they shone from. It looked serene, and even though she hadn't spent much time in Ylisstol it looked like home to her – she couldn't see a grain of sand, and the sky had never looked better to her. She might have PTSD after her trip to the Borderpass, if she was being honest with herself.

"It's about time," she said to no one in particular, though she received weak and tired murmurs of agreement regardless of it. Most of them hadn't slept in days due to the circumstances surrounding their departure from the pass, and no one was feeling all that chatty anymore as they rode up on the capital. Ricken and Maribelle had managed to snag a few hours of shut eye – naps, as she would call them – and Marth had passed out shortly after they set off, her horse tied to Lon'qu's by rope as so that it did not crash and burn on the side of the road. She looked a lot more alert than she did earlier now, and Robin was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that the mysterious swordsman was actually a swordswoman. Her life was a lie. "I need a bath."

"We're not done yet," Etzel said without hesitation, his hood drawn down over his face and his hunched posture mimicking her own. He sounded as tired as she was – and she partially blamed him for her lack of sleep. His news of the events that would occur shortly after the Exalt's return to Ylisstol was not delivered gracefully, and the urgency in his tone as he spoke inspired a bit of panic in the party. If the Exalt were to die with the current happenings going on, things would get bad. She didn't know why she trusted his words, but a part of her assured the rest of her that there was truth to them. The same part was keeping her from sleeping, and her eyelids were heavier than ever before. "We must ensure everything is normal and that we aren't too late before celebrating."

"Buzz kill," she droned, not bothering to mention that literally no one was celebrating. Also, she felt filthy and her clothes were filled with sand – if the city was burning or being swallowed by a black hole, she'd still be climbing into the tub for a soak the world be damned. As they drew nearer the wall of the city came into sight in all of its simplified glory, with stacked slabs of stone and defensive measures piled on top like the architects didn't really know how to set up defenses at all. The lanterns on top were lit and casting a glow across the surrounding trees. She paused, though her horse did not, and sniffed. "Anyone else smell that?"

When they finally reached the gates, the smell of baked goods and cider became stronger than before in minutes, the delicious scent multiplied tenfold as it poured out through the seams of the heavy wooden gates and wafted over the massive wall that stood between Ylisstol and the outside world. It almost made her mouth water and perked her up quickly as her stomach groaned quietly, reminding her that dried jerky and water was not enough to keep someone going forever. She was so distracted by the smell that she didn't even notice the rest of her traveling circus had stopped, and her stallion came to a such a surprising halt that it literally almost threw her from its back.

"What's going on?" she asked after she had recovered, scooting back into a dignified position on her ride. It wasn't a comfortable position – she wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for a long time, she would think – but it made her look like she knew what was happening around her. All around her, the others were peering ahead with varying looks of contempt or amusement. She couldn't make sense of it until she turned her own eyes up to look at the main gates they had set out from only days prior, when the atmosphere was glum and the guards stoic and serious.

The scenery, she noticed, had changed significantly.

The stone foundation the gates were built upon was covered and in a way that made it nigh impossible to pass over on a horse. Benches that she recognized to have been dragged from within the city walls were scattered across the ground and seated numerous guards, who were laughing and chatting and singing loudly. She had been so distracted she hadn't even noticed the noise, but now it was almost instantly giving her a migraine and she massaged her temple.

Weapons were sheathed and cast aside, leaned up against chairs and benches and tables, and the guards were drinking as they talked. Paper streamers were stuck to the wall haphazardly at random intervals, and the night was lit by different colours of paper lanterns that dangled from the archway.

"... Are they _drunk?_ " Maribelle demanded, looking mildly aggravated. Over the course of their journey, she had returned to her normal state of existence with extra loads of sass and sarcasm to make up for her lapse in character, to the point where Robin nearly wanted to strangle her. She had entertained herself by wringing her hands in front of her eyes, making it look like they were around the noble's throat as she made fake grunts. Call it childish, but she was thoroughly amused by the sight. Maribelle turned her nose up. "Inebriated troglodytes guarding the wall – I feel so safe."

"Do you use that word repetitively ironically?" Robin felt the need to ask.

"Irony is for uncultured troglodytes with no taste."

"Oh god."

"Oi!" One of the guards perked up, and the sound of glass shattering silenced the singing as his drink dropped dramatically and drowned the festivities out. He shot up from his seat like a silver bullet, his metal armor clanking and clattering as he went for his weapon in surprisingly decent time. "Eyes up, look like a guard everyone!"

Robin thought it was a bit too late to save appearances, but the Ylissean Guard begged to differ as they scrambled over benches and past one another, the singing and laughter devolving into borderline mass panic with men shouting to one another and grabbing random weapons off of the floor. It was like watching a cartoon – they looked at each tool of war for only a moment before throwing them and swapping with their allies as they tried to find their own swords and spears. A couple ran into one another trying to get past, and she began to cackle as she watched.

"This trip was definitely worth it," she said, watching a mysteriously pantsless guard dart to the flagpole beside the foundation and begin scaling it with his legs and arms. Overhead, a pair of trousers sheathed the Exalt crest that was on the flag, officially solidifying the connection between Ylisse and Detroit in her mind. She laughed harder. "Look at them – it's hilarious! Is anyone else seeing this?"

"This is your Guard?" Lon'qu asked, somehow remaining stoic in the face of hilarity. Come to think of it, no one else looked as amused as she did sans Ricken, and she wondered what that made her. Was it childish? She banished the thoughts and continued to cackle madly.

"Unfortunately," Marth sighed, one of her eyes covered by a long, ragged strip of cloth torn from Etzel's coat. Her other was covered by her palm as she looked down at her horse, apparently thoroughly humiliated by the sight. Maybe it was the guy without pants that embarrassed her – didn't bother Robin much, but the hairy legs were kind of gross, if not toned. "I can't believe this is still a nation."

"I'm surrounded by idiots," Lon'bon said, staring ahead.

" _Hey!_ " Marth shouted, dismounting from her horse and pushing on despite some soldiers getting their hands on their bows. The swordswoman in disguise(?) didn't bat an eye as one of the shots went wide, burying itself in the dirt a fair distance from her feet. Maybe it was because she hadn't seen it – the weird eye covering probably limited her vision, but it was stylish. "Where is your commanding officer?"

"Who goes there?!" One of the guards – the one that had spoken before – vaulted a bench and bore his sword like it was ready to rip flesh. Unfortunately for him it was quite, er, not, and the blade was masked by the leathery sheath that he had yet to remove. As he yanked it off two seconds later, he kicked his buddy in the shin when the soldier beside him did not move to do the same. Soon, two blades were pointed in her direction. "You one of those Plegian dastards?"

"I am Marth," she said, her hand falling to the pommel of her sword. Robin had seen her fight – these guys wouldn't stand a chance. She hoped it didn't come to that though; they were on the same side, after all. "And you are all fools."

"Aye?" The guard that Robin assumed to be the captain tilted his head, his sword's tip dipping slightly as he peered not at Marth but behind her, examining the group that traveled with the unmasked swordswoman. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, but to his credit they still managed to zero in on the body draped over Lon'qu's shoulder like a misguided fashion statement. After a couple of seconds, his sword dropped entirely, and he was left standing casually like any ordinary peasant. "That's Prince Chrom, ain't it?"

"Easy. We don't intend to harm him," Marth said, her hand dropping away from her weapon ever so slightly as a pinch of civility was added to the conversation. "We just-"

" _Oi Donnel!"_ he shouted over his shoulder, looking up to the wall. Perched up in a brick booth that was shielded from the outside world by metal bars and glass, a boy with dark hair lifted the window open and looked down over the parlying parties. "They got Chrom! These guys is alright." He burped, slumping down into the bench beneath his rear as though the act of standing had become too much for him. "Open the gate."

"Donnel?" Etzel perked up, and Robin was a bit curious too. The boy looked too young for war, and for inexplicable reasons he seemed to have a pot on his head.

"... What?" Marth choked out finally as the heavy metal gate slid open with a shriek, old metal grinding against rough stone as chains scraped and screamed to lift the immense weight. Her cry of shock went unnoticed as the guards returned to their partying posthaste, evidently having wiped their hands of the ordeal entirely. "Hey!"

"What's goin' on now?" the captain asked, looking at them with his head cocked as he took another swig from a new bottle. Eventually he climbed to his feet and came closer than shouting distance, staggering and falling onto Marth. Her grunt of disgust at the alcohol on his breath was surely heard throughout the kingdom. "Problem, officer?"

"You are letting us in because we have Chrom's unconscious body," she said, shoving him off of her. He didn't fall, but it looked like he was cutting it close. "That is our problem."

"It's actually just her problem," Robin added.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm so drunk right now I can't even remember my own fuckin' name right. You guys are comin' back from a party, right? Chrom looks straight wasted he does. You lot oughta get him to bed." He laughed at this. "He'll be feelin' it in the bloody morning, that's fer sure!"

"You aren't… Gods…" Marth groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Alright alright, you sayin' we should, like, close the gate then?" he grunted, looking from her to the group with a squint. "Close the gate or open the gate? Close the gate?"

" _Close the gate?!"_

" _Not talkin' to you, Donnel!"_ the captain shouted back up at the booth, only sparing it a glance before looking back at Marth. He held a hand up to his mouth and spoke hushedly, 'confiding' in her: "He's a good kid, he is. Not all that bright, 's all."

"Marth, they're letting us through," Robin said, exasperated and running hands through her normally fantastic hair. A couple of guards were working to move benches out of the way to grant access, though were having a spot of trouble due to the people still sitting on them. It looked like every guard from the wall was down here. "Can we just fucking go? My hair isn't going to fix itself, and neither is my sleep schedule."

"No we can't 'just fucking go'," Marth snapped over her shoulder as her convoy began to advance on the gate, coming to stand behind her on their horses. It looked like they were the cavalry and this seemed to catch the guards' attention again, but Robin suspected they were all behind her for the same reason; they just wanted to go inside. It was freezing out here, and her nose was starting to run again. A cold night in Ylisse was about as common as a cold day in Regna Ferox, and she was shivering from the sudden shift in climate. "I need to sort this foolishness out now."

"Look, I don't know what your problem is," the captain said almost apologetically, running a hand through his mussy hair. Marth to her credit remained stoic as he tried to offer her his bottle, using the back of her hand to brush it away before it got too close to her lips. "I just work here."

"That's the point-"

"If you don't want to go through, that's your loss mate," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. He apparently was too drunk to tell how close he was to reaching the end of her patience, as anyone sane or sober would have backed off by now. "Donnel up there can close it and we can go our separate ways. You want in or not? Make up your gods damned mind, sir."

"I'm a woman!"

" _Close the gate or open the gate?!"_

" _Don't touch that gods damned switch, Donnel!"_

"I'm going," Lon'qu said shortly, and Marth scrambled to one side as the captain swayed his way to the other, allowing the swordsman through. Robin and everyone but Etzel followed his lead, leaving Marth to argue semantics with the guard and Etzel to watch as they pushed on into the city.

"Well that was…" Robin began, trying to find the words to describe her feelings on the situation. Ricken was still laughing his squeaky mouse-like laugh, doubled over on his horse, and Maribelle looked bored. Lon'qu as mentioned prior, did not seem to care one bit, remaining completely apathetic to the happenings they had just experienced. "... Eventful?"

"That was stupid," Lon'qu said. "Absolutely stupid. Where are we going?"

For a moment Robin thought he meant with their lives, and she only just caught herself before she could tell him that they were probably going nowhere and were going to die as insignificant specks with their names lost to history faster than you could say 'Fire Emblem Amie'. She closed her mouth again as the party came to a stop just beyond the entrance of the gates, and found festivities waiting for them like a welcome home party. Except she doubted the party was for them, and if she ever found the actual reason for partying before their lives were confirmed to still be intact, she hoped to god it had legs and could run really fast. Her hands gripped the reins tightly and her knuckles turned white. "I guess back to the castle, Lon'bon," she said through gritted teeth, ignoring the blunt correction on the pronunciation of his weird ass name. "We're gonna have a chat with lady Emmeryn. Deliver stuff like news, her comatose brother, maybe we can even pick up a bag of party favours on the way over. How about that?"

"You look pretty t'd off," Ricken commented, apparently considering the word 'ticked' to be far too vulgar of a word to be used by someone of his age. It was adorable. "Maybe you should cool down first? I see lemonade."

"I'm fine," she said, breathing in deeply. She exhaled. "Let's go find Emm."

 **O**

Emmeryn was easy enough to find, as she was indeed chilling out back at the castle. Chrom finally woke up on the way up the stairs, and Lon'qu had accidentally dropped the prince when the body on his shoulder began to twist spastically like electricity had begun to surge through it. Unfortunately the swordsman's first instinct had been to drop the prince on the spot, sending him tumbling back down the steps without a word. It was possible he had offered some form of grunted apology after the prince had scaled the hilariously oversized stair case on his own, but if so it was in the language of Lon'bon – disinterested but sincere. She hoped.

Now however after all that had been dealt with and it had been confirmed that Chrom was not suffering from brain damage after his fall, they were back in the palace before the throne of the Exalt Emmeryn. Her eyes were shut and a smile was plastered on her face as she lounged in her chair, one leg folded over the other as she sipped from the goblet that she held loosely in one hand.

Robin was the first to enter the room surprisingly, despite her slow running speed, and she did not look or feel any degree of happy as she walked with her fists closed into tight balls that dangled at her sides. Her annoyed looking eyes scanned the throne room quickly, barely lingering on the kegs that had been rolled in and propped against pillars nor even seeming to notice the paper streamers that were strung from the ceiling.

But she noticed. Oh did she notice.

"Milord!" Frederick broke away from the side of the throne like a ghost, melting from the shadows. He might have just been standing so still Robin mistook him for a shadow, but now the way he barrelled towards them reminded her more of a battering ram carried by foot troops. Their admittedly small ranks wisely broke to either side at his approach, leaving a drowsy Chrom to stand alone against the charging knight before he was no longer even standing at all; rather he was swept off his feet into an uncharacteristic bear-hug born of neglect. "You're not dead! What a joyous day!"

"Frederick?" Chrom mumbled, not struggling to break free as the sound of bones popping echoed through the room. "Hi…"

"Enjoying your party, Lady Emmeryn?" Robin demanded as she came to stand before the throne, not accepting the goblet that was offered to her by one of the servants. It smelled of lies and treachery. Emmeryn opened her eyes at the voice of her tactician, and smiled wider. "It's good to know you were worried. I don't think I'd be able to stand it if you were having a blast while we were stumbling across the country through rain and tears."

"Partying in a time of war." Lon'bon snorted in what might have been disappointment. "Ylisseans."

"That was incredible nonchalant racism Lon'bon," Robin noted, looking over to him with a cocked eyebrow as he drew his blade and began cleaning it with the hem of his tunic. It was very shiny, but apparently he thought he could do it one better. "Hats off to you."

"I knew you would return safely," Emmeryn said simply over the rim of her chalice, eyes dancing with amusement as she took another sip. She didn't seem the slightest bit fazed by her sarcasm or his blatant generalization of her country as a whole as Chrom escaped from Frederick's bear hug and rejoined his party. "This party is for you, after all, and your triumph at the Border Pass."

"Not cool, Emm," Chrom said, unlike Robin accepting a cup from one of the servants before taking a deep drink. His slouch was either from disappointment or perhaps a missed dent in his head from the fall, but there were bigger fish to fry and Robin did not make any verbal comment on it. "How would you know if we were going to be alright anyways?"

"You are blessed with plot armor," Emmeryn said wisely. She spoke no more and Robin cursed for she was right.

But she couldn't be angry as her eyes scanned the room, sharp as a hawk but actually the eyes of a Robin instead. Maribelle had already taken to a group of nobles off to the side, and Ricken was reading a book in a corner as he sipped absent-mindedly from a cup of what she hoped was juice. Etzel and Marth seemed to have disappeared once again, for unless they had entered battle with the guards they well should have caught up by now. The rest of her party seemed to slowly be taking to the festivities one by one, with Frederick and Chrom swapping stories about something or other beside Emmeryn's throne, and it made her smile.

This time she accepted a drink.

Etzel and Marth had spoken of an approaching danger tonight, but… maybe they could afford to let their guard down for a while, if they were careful. If they truly were from the future or could see the future somehow, then they no doubt were noticing changes in the timeline as it were, right?

They could totally take it easy. Perhaps it was her bone tiredness that influenced her decision here, but it was whateves.

Right?

 **O**

 **BACK AT IT AGAIN AYYYYYE**

 **I got off my ass and did a double update! YEEE**


	16. Chapter 16

**Fire Emblem: Awakening –** _ **Again Again**_

 **Chapter XVI**

 **A Cloudless Night**

 _ **Intermission**_

She couldn't remember ever feeling relaxed or at ease, and that was not an exaggeration.

Ever since she had first awoken in that field with what she had at the time assumed to be heavy brain damage combined with a terrible hangover, her life had been nothing but running back and forth saving whoever the fuck needed saving at the time. From the field to South Town to the flaming hell in the middle of nowhere, she had gone to Regna Ferox and watched it fall first-hand (albeit, missing a portion of it due to sudden and inexplicable unconsciousness) and from there raced to the Border Sands to deal with the crazy King of Plegia, Gangrel.

Time after time she had been forced to think up strategies and plans on the fly, never getting a moment's rest. She could count on her fingers the number of times she had slept in a bed – like, once. She could count on one finger.

But the warm lighting of the palace interior was not cast by burning buildings or mages with fire tomes. It was cast by braziers and lanterns and candles, the soft glow washing across the tiles and carpet as if liquid gold was pouring from the iron fountains and wax stumps.

She felt naked without her coat, as even though the room was warm and welcoming it was vast and felt empty. The statues of armor that decorated the corners shone in the amber lighting, and she couldn't help but wonder if she had PTSD from all of the shit she had gone through in the past week alone. Performers played music from the balconies, divided but working in harmony to produce a beautiful melody to accompany the hearty atmosphere. A part of her wondered if she were responsible for this – was it her fault that they all were so at ease?

Perhaps it was, perhaps it was not. It wasn't like she had lied or withheld information – they had informed the Exalt Emmeryn of the dangers that Marth and Etzel prophesied the moment they could, and she had taken the news surprisingly well.

Chrom, his head finally seeming to have cleared up somewhere down the line, had doubled the security and temporarily banned the guards from any alcoholic substances for an indefinite period of time; the complaints had been numerous, but after a personal talk with the guards the prince managed to convince them that their lives were not worth a couple more bottles of ale and beer and whatever else they were drinking out there.

Emmeryn had insisted, however, that this was a time for celebration. Robin wondered if the woman had brain damage, and not in the amnesiac 'I forgot my memories' way that she had implied earlier. No, she was wondering if the Exalt was off her rocker and into the fucking pond entirely. What did they have to celebrate when war and an incoming attack were in the near future? The former was already upon them, not to mention.

Despite her concerns however, she was no different from her allies, and if something went wrong she promised herself that she would share at least a portion of the blame. Like, maybe a teeny tiny portion. Like, a super small portion. Yeah. She nodded to herself as she sipped from her goblet.

The air was filled with laughter and talking, and she felt that this was something that everybody needed anyways if they wanted to keep going at their maximum potential. The air tasted different tonight – fresh and clean, and she was fresh and clean as well ever since getting her much-needed bath. Chrom had 'accidentally' walked in on her, somehow, and that made her feel a bit less clean all around, but that was whatever. She didn't understand how it had happened, did not want to know, and assumed it was a cringy anime trope that somehow had managed to be applied to her.

Basilio and Flavia seemed to be at the center of attention tonight, and it was no wonder they were the Khans of Ferox – the way they commanded the room's attention with their antics was fascinating in its own right. Their playful banter earned consistent howls of laughter from the tablegoers as they shot quips back and forth over the table, like entertainers doing an act they had practiced thousands of times before. Taking their ages into account, it was fully possible that that number was accurate as well.

"And then he ran!" Basilio roared, his gravelly laughter surely ringing through the entire palace, and the table seemed to shake as many more chortles and guffaws joined him. The room was merry, and only a few of the most stoic and stone-faced party-poopers (Lon'bon and Frederick) kept straight faces at the joke. She thought she saw the latter crack a smile, however, while the former frowned deeply. "Right out the room and through the window!"

"It's no secret that your former champion has a deathly fear of women, you oaf," Flavia shot back, leaning on the table and sipping from her bottle. It was Feroxi Firewhiskey – Robin had tried it ten minutes prior, and almost gagged it back up into the bottle before swallowing it. The way it burned her throat would stick with her until she died, and the blaze was followed by a sudden feeling of lightheadedness. She thought she had been hit by a critical. "But I feel that he was more afraid of the blade at my side than what's below my belt. If having balls or not decided who he could talk to and who he couldn't, I'm almost certain you and he would not have worked together for so long."

Vaike – who, for the first time in possibly his entire life, was wearing a shirt – looked like he was almost crying, while Lon'qu was glaring daggers at anyone that his eyes passed over. It was quite clear that he did not wish for this story to get out, like, ever, which is why she felt the need to ensure that it most certainly did.

"While I can't speak fer her memory, Flavia's had plenty of chances to count balls," Basilo chortled, unfazed by the remark. His voice was deep and loud even when he wasn't trying for it to be, and carried over the laughter to be easily heard, just as Flavia's did. She wondered if they would ever be interested in joining the Ylissean army should Ferox not be restored any time soon; they would most likely make excellent captains, if not ones with harsh standards. "Last I saw, she still wasn't allowed in the women's bathhouse – they keep sending her back to the men's!"

Robin was surprised by the savagery that these… well, savages were capable of, and the crudeness of their jokes didn't seem to have any effect on the results, with everyone still seeming to enjoy them thoroughly. Whilst she had thought the table was meant for manners, it appeared that the Feroxi had been taught quite the opposite; they thought that the table was the place where you talked shit about your friends, and she wondered how much better a place the world would be if everyone was that easy going.

Probably terrible, she guessed.

She wanted to ask how long it would be until dinner was ready, but looking over to Chrom made her change her mind. The prince had a massive grin splitting his face, with some bandages wrapped around his head and a new clean shirt on to boot. Beside him, Sumia was whispering something to him, and he chuckled and nodded to her.

It made her smile as well, but she also felt a bit jealous, and wasn't so petty as to pretend otherwise. If Chrom and Sumia got together, it wouldn't surprise her, but she worried… well, maybe he'd forget about his new pal Robin? She didn't think it was possible to forget such a magnificent work of art, but this gnawing fear was almost unreasonable in its power and made her smile feel strained.

No one would forget her. This was her family now, til death do them part or whatever. Right?

Almost every Shepherd was present at the large and elongated table, squashed in side by side like sardines or something similar. She was plopped between a woman with red hair and a strangely empty seat that no one really wanted she guessed, while the two celebrities from before were sending jabs back and forth from opposite sides of the table. The only people that were missing oddly enough, were Stahl and Miriel. Miriel hadn't wanted to come – saying she was engrossed in something far more important than frivolous dining – and Stahl had been nowhere to be found.

Oh, she blinked. She supposed there was also Sully. No idea when they had lost her, but she was probably… wherever Stahl was, she guessed. Or vice versa. Whatever, she forgot Sully again, so what?

She was sure they were fine.

Probably.

Eventually the laughter began to die down as servants poured into the room, carrying various dishes in their arms. Plates and steel pans and pitchers of cider and water and ale and bottles of wine and more were laid out on the table in almost random orders, and the smells were almost overwhelming as her stomach rumbled again. The hunger would soon consume her if she did not feed.

When had she last eaten such a grand and fancy meal? She literally couldn't remember if she ever had. Oh, every time she had to think those specific words it killed her a little bit more inside. Maybe she should make up a fake past and just get it all sorted so she could think straight without being interrupted by 'Oh poor me look I lost my memories fucking goddamn-' ala hormonal teenager on Tumblr.

"You're Robin, correct?" the woman noted from beside her, brushing a few stray locks of crimson hair out of her eyes as so that she could see the tactician better. Robin started, surprised by the sudden attempt to start a conversation; she had never seen this woman in her life, and while the grace that she carried herself with might have suggested that she was a noble her attire was not that of any noble Robin had seen prior. Ruby red eyes watched carefully, as if for a reaction while she extended her hand for a handshake. "My name is Cordelia. I'm one of the Pegasus Knights – I don't think you've had a chance to meet any of us yet, and I'm honored to be the first."

The gesture was a surprising one, as Robin had actually been under the impression that the woman in armor was like, a background character. Maybe a stand in to fill a seat or something. However, getting a better look at her face cemented that this was no Maid – she was probably going to be recruitable, if only because people would get mad if they couldn't waifu anyone that remotely resembled a female.

However, she took this in stride regardless as plates began to cover the table. The smell was making her mouth water, but she tried her best not to look like a ravenous animal anyways. She shook this 'Cordelia's hand, albeit with a cocked eyebrow. "One of the Pegasus Knights?"

Cordelia bowed her head slightly, looking down at the empty plate that was set in front of her. Robin couldn't see her eyes, but she could feel the awkward radiation coming off of her dinner-neighbour as she answered the unspoken question. "My sisters are at their own feast. I am more welcome here than with them."

Robin winced. Drama did not belong at this table – not tonight. She clapped the woman on the shoulder, smiling. "Well, if you weren't here, then you wouldn't have met me. And really – who doesn't want to meet me?"

Cordelia laughed, and it was a beautiful sound that made Robin jealous. Even her laugh was perfect – why wouldn't anyone want her at their table? The Pegasus Knights were probably a bunch of characterless asshole bullies with no redeeming qualities, and she was going to blog about it when they invented computers, so that the entire world could see.

She was about to ask about the progression of technology – which she would then have followed with a question about why technology seemed to not progress in this land – when a servant with rolled up sleeves swayed past the back of her chair and almost dumped the countless desserts that were stacked in his arms down onto the floor. His shoes squeaked on the tiles as the impossibly high mountain of sweets realigned itself as if by magic – like some sort of fucked up Jenga trick – and he rebalanced his cargo.

Now a new question came to mind.

"Who's that clown?" she asked suddenly, pointing to the servant. She couldn't even see his face, for the trays and plates and bowls towered over his own head. He did not look like the rest of the servants in the slightest – the servants all seemed to have the same face and voice, while this one obviously did not while he staggered around like a drunk, but with the grace of a drunk ballerina. "New character?"

"What?"

"New guy, I meant new guy," she corrected herself when the man managed to find some sort of balance and neared their table again. His fellow servers did not move to help him, seemingly caught up in witnessing the horror of the dangerous balancing act. One slip up would mean chocolate rain, and everything would probably be ruined. "He's probably going to be unemployed again quickly if he drops those."

If he dropped them, she would be quite upset as well. Perhaps her question was answered thus; technology could not progress until mankind mastered basic problem solving skills and learned that the word foresight didn't just mean to see the future with magic eyes or cool swords.

Just when it looked like he was about to drop them for reals, Cordelia's chair slid back soundlessly from the table, chair legs clicking over the grooves in between the tiles while she rose to her feet. The servant let out a mumble of thanks as she began helping him unload them onto the table, smiling all the while – either she had god-like patience, or was a professional actor.

"Bit off more than I could chew there," the server said, carrot-coloured hair being revealed first until finally a handsome face appeared from behind the pile of cavity-causing junk food that she would devour in a heartbeat regardless of oral health precautions. Eventually, the last tray – a large steel sheet covered in cookies – was all that remained, and he set it carefully over a bowl of pudding. He smiled a roguish smile at Cordelia, the stick of what Robin thought might have once been a lollipop sticking out from between his lips. "Good thing you're beautiful AND generous, right?"

Cordelia's face flushed only after the server had wandered off again, and she returned to her seat. Robin would have said something childish, but with the last of the dishes being put into place, Emmeryn stood up from where she had been sitting quietly at the head of the table.

Her polite but distant smile brought an amiable silence to the table, and she did not have to do anything else to bring attention to herself, instead commanding it through what Robin could only assume must have been the result of years of awesome Sage-Training. Her eyes were almost numb yet so warm, and the Tactician wondered not for the first time that night if the Exalt was on hard drugs, like that Azima fellow.

Perhaps that was where Sages got their awesome power? Their flowing robes smelled of pleasantry only to mask the eighty pounds of cocaine stowed within. As Eric Clapton might say; _if you wanna wipe out an enemy platoon of low res units – cocain…_

Chrom looked like he wished to stand as well, but ultimately he didn't rise from his seat like he usually would have, holding a hand to his chest and wincing half way out of his chair. The new shirt he wore was white and clean, but the faint traces of dark veins still poked out from where the collar was unbuttoned.

Robin had been told that Chrom had mostly recovered on the trip, but Lissa would still be keeping an eye on him and he was still to received several more treatments for the poison that lingered in his body. Maribelle had been unable to purge it all, and traces had mixed so deep with his fluids that the healers were afraid they might damage his very lifeblood if they tried to untangle it. He originally was supposed to be resting in his room, but predictably was having none of that.

He looked happier here, anyways.

"I would like to personally thank you all for dining at my table tonight, especially in light of recent events," Emmeryn said when silence reigned supreme, and Robin was surprised by how well it carried.

She had always seemed to soft spoken to the Tactician – it was both easy to forget and easy to see that the woman was such a strong leader. Perhaps that was what made her someone to look up to – easy to talk to despite her power, and so malleable as a leader and a person. Flexible. As a symbol of what Ylisse stood for, she did not disappoint, Robin found as she sipped from her own drink.

"It is imperative that you all understand that the rumors of what happened in the Border Sands are not rumors." Emmeryn looked saddened when she said this, and Chrom looked down at the empty plate in front of him. No one had taken food yet, and perhaps this might just ruin everyone's appetite. But Robin had been waiting for it – people needed to hear this. "War will soon be upon us. This may very well be the last night we can afford festivities, and I wish for you all to enjoy it, but there is no dancing around the fact that darkness lurks in our future."

Whispers began to circulate around the table, and Robin felt a cold sweat on the back of her neck. She hadn't yet had the chance to talk to Chrom about what had happened back at the Border Pass; had the chance to tell him about the voices in her head, and the visions that had been laid over her eyes like a film. Maybe she should make that a priority – seemed important.

"Only by continuing to blaze can we hope to burn bright enough – only by striking sparks across the continent can we hope to stand against whatever fate lay in wait for us," Emmeryn looked around. "I look around me, and I see tinder." Robin shifted uncomfortably. Everyone did, but she was remembering the visions now, the flames. "I see flint, and at this table I see steel. I see men and women that come from all over this world we live in – men and women that are stronger than any warriors I have ever known before. Alone, you are soldiers and mercenaries and leaders and healers and casters."

The mumbling stopped.

"But together, you as pieces form something larger. A masterpiece none before have ever bore witness to; bonded by invisible ties, I see a force that can overcome anything. Trailblazers to carry the torch, and light the way so that this world can reach a future where we truly know peace."

There was cheering now, and Robin smiled.

They'd figure something out.

These were her friends and family now, and she wasn't going to let anything take them away from her. They'd be alright.

 **O**

The moon was clearly visible in the sky, and Robin took the moment to appreciate it. He felt tense as he always did, but at the same time tendrils of drowsiness burrowed and twisted into his brain, turning off the lights and casting his mind into a pleasant haze. He wasn't entirely there, but enough of him was; the sweet smell of grass and foods and the crisp air filling his lungs. The way the wind ran talons through his hair and tickled his nose.

All around him, he could hear the distant sounds of laughter and play and dancing and music. It was surreal to him – how long had it been since he'd been in a world so carefree? Part of him was obviously upset by the fact that his warning seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, but that part was almost asleep now, and he was lost in nostalgia and his own thoughts, almost alone. Soft breathing from the other side of the tree. Not entirely alone, he supposed.

When he opened his eyes, dull umber reflecting a galaxy of infinitely large proportions, they were filled with clarity and suppressed joy. He now knew what Lucina must have felt when she first traveled back so long ago, seeing this heaven after living through hell itself; it was like opening one's eyes for the first time.

The knotted and rough oak he rested against was familiar, and his hand rested lazily on a twisting root. This tree – he hadn't seen it in a long time, but it still felt like it had just been yesterday that he had been nestled in the thick roots at the base of the tree, his nose buried in a book while the sun shone down in broken up beams through the leaves. It was a small thing that he'd never really appreciated as much as he did now; the tree was gone in his timeline. It had been chopped down while he and the rest of the Shepherds were overseas in Valm. He never found out who felled it – didn't have time. Things had been almost at the boiling point.

If the other Robin was anything like him, she'd soon find this tree as well, perched on the hill just a ways away from the palace walls. He could see the window to his office from here – or, where it had been. Where it would be. Where her's would be. Whatever. Fuck, he was starting to hate grammar.

But aside from confusing grammatical tenses, the situation pleased him, even as he tried to remain alert. It was nice. Warmer than Ferox.

"Hey," he asked suddenly, leaning to the side and peering around the trunk of the tree. Resting against the opposite side of the tree, a figure was leaned almost sleepily against the bark, their head tilted back and their eyes closed. The strip of cloth she had been using to hide her brand was hanging from her neck, and she looked almost asleep – he knew she wasn't. She was conserving her energy while he was on watch. They would switch within the hour. "Lucina? You awake?"

There was a pause.

"I am."

Her Falchion rested at her side, the old sheath buried in the swaying blades of grass and her hand laid across the grip of the ancient weapon. Always ready.

"I was just thinking… well, I'm always thinking. But…" he looked up at the stars again, settling comfortably back into his previous position. The hill had been his suggestion, as it had a perfect line of sight to the fissure in the wall that Chrom had made once upon a time. He had been mad at the Prince for not sharing this detail, and it had almost costed them blood and would have had it not been for Lucina's timely intervention. Mind the pun. He breathed out, watching for the assassin that was to slip into the crack soon. "You ever wonder why we're here?"

Another pause.

"No."

Eventually, there was a series of cracking and snapping, almost like explosions coming from out by the front of the palace. Lucina and Robin were almost instantly on their feet, their weapons at the ready as they each went for their respective disguises, but both stopped when colorful lights washed across the grassy hills.

Dawn would bleed into the night eventually, but by then Robin would be asleep.

Either way it was, the future seemed more uncertain than ever, for events seemed to have shifted yet again. This time?

For the better.

 **O**

 **100 followers and over a year of writing and reading. You're all great – thanks for reading and teaching me how to write.**

 **Stay tuned.**


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